


Sweet Little Thing

by StarkerThanReality



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Blood, Bondage, Comfort, Daddy Kink, Dark Tony Stark, Dom/sub, Don't Like Don't Read, Dubious Consent, Escape, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forced Relationship, Forced blowjobs, Graphic Description, Hair Kink, Hair Pulling Kink, Hair-pulling, I'm Bad At Summaries, Injury, Kidnapping, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mental Anguish, Molestation, Multi, Pain, Painful Sex, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Toys, Starker, Student Peter, This is not WinterIron, Whipping, Whump, Whumptober 2018, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-07-11 18:04:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 64,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15977612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarkerThanReality/pseuds/StarkerThanReality
Summary: In which Peter receives recognition for his outstanding grades and achievements in STEM and is invited to mysterious genius Mr. Stark's tower in New York. He hopes he can go home soon.[No powers, rich but not famous Tony, student Peter]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure how long this is going to end up or what direction I'm taking it in. Nothing is planned and if you have constructive criticism please feel free to leave it! This is my first time posting after a long time being an audience member, so I'm not very good at this yet, be gentle.

Peter had jitters all morning commuting from his tiny apartment in Queens to the massive building that towered above him now. He steeled his nerves and made his way through the door and to the elevator that would lead him to the penthouse on the top floor. He'd never heard of this Tony Stark before but he hoped he'd make a good mentor, seeing as how they both excelled in the same areas academically. He'd done a little online research after he'd opened his invitation letter a few weeks ago but the articles offered were minimal at best, no pictures and barely any details. He wondered what the man would look like and what his personality would be like. Peter nervously tapped his foot as he looked up at the numbers slowly lighting up above the elevator doors. Just a few more floors. 

He nervously pulled on the cuffs of his sleeves and the collar of his shirt that suddenly seemed too tight and his skin broke into a clammy sweat. His heartbeat hammered in his ears. He should have asked his aunt May to accompany him, but it was too late for that now. The elevator finally came to a stop and the doors dinged open slowly. Peter nervously glanced around the huge open apartment without making a move to exit the elevator. Everything was shiny and state of the art. The furniture looked like it was hardly used and everything was at least twice as big as what he was used to. His jaw dropped slightly as he inched towards the room slowly and in awe, taking it all in. 

"Like what you see?" a smooth voice called from somewhere out of Peter's line of vision. Peter's mouth snapped shut and his face twinged with pink. He poked his head out of the elevator looking for the source of the voice. A man a few inches taller than him and clearly older, with dark chestnut hair and a dark goatee stood to his left, in the corner of the huge apartment in what was the kitchen. He stood sipping from a tumbler of amber liquid, ice clinking in the glass. 

"Oh, y-yes!" Peter squeaked out nervously as he finally stepped out of the elevator. His voice sounded too high to his own ears and he quietly cleared his throat. He took a few nervous steps toward the man, unsure of whether he should go shake his hand or not, holding his own halfway out in the air undecidedly. He cleared his throat quietly again and dropped his hand back to his side, wiping his sweaty palm against his side before asking, "Are you Mr. Stark?" 

The man had on a soft looking black t-shirt with some sort of phrase on it that outlined his toned arms and chest, and black jeans that hugged his lower half perfectly. His hair was slightly messy like he'd just run his hands through it and neglected a comb or product that morning. Peter found himself blushing, thinking about how soft it might be and turned his attention back to the man's face. His expression was one of quiet amusement as he looked Peter over from the rim of his glass. He made a "tch" sound through his teeth as he set his beverage on the counter and smirked a little. It wasn't lost on Peter how attractive the older man was.  
"I am." He answered simply, making no move to walk toward the teen. 

Peter's mouth went dry. He'd never been in such a strange situation before and he didn't have a clue what to do. He decided to try making small talk. "So... Y-You liked my essays?" He asked, referring to the papers that had gotten him invited in the first place. He'd done a pretty substantial amount of work and research on them but hardly anything he thought warranted possibly being granted a scholarship; not compared to his classmates. The man rubbed the dark scruff on his chin as a smile played on his lips. He finally came around from the side of the kitchen island towards Peter and the younger could see that he was barefoot. He couldn't help but be slightly turned on by the attractive older man and his seeming eccentricities, and then he couldn't help being embarrassed by the strange attraction. He shuffled his weight from foot to foot, opening and clenching his sweaty fists at his sides. "Yeah, I'm intrigued by young minds. You know, the ones that show promise. My workshop gets pretty quiet here sometimes with just me in it," He finally answered. Peter thanked him and tried not to look too intimidated by the man's quiet stare as he walked toward him. Peter felt a bit like a gazelle being watched by a panther (or something a panther would stalk. He excelled in science, not animal studies.) The older man stopped a few feet in front of him and looked him up and down. Peter swallowed thickly, deciding if he should just leave now and go back home or endure the strange older man's scrutiny for the rest of the afternoon. 

"I researched you a little bit." The older man finally broke the silence and Peter looked up to meet his eyes. "I heard about a genius kid in Queens and couldn't help but try to find out more about you." Peter felt his ears burning and his palms were clammy. "I was hoping you'd like to come tour my place. The labs and whatnot. Thought maybe I could convince you to stay a while. You know, if you like it. I've definitely got the space." Peter's mouth dropped open again and he floundered with his words, trying to find a response in his brain.

"Obviously I don't expect an answer right now, you can look around and think it over." Peter silently let out a breath he didn't realize he'd been holding and tried to relax a little. What kind of person asked a complete stranger to move in when they first met them? Peter was a little freaked out but he was excited about seeing the lab and workshop, so he decided to stick it out for a while longer. Tony looked straight into Peter's cinnamon brown eyes with his impossibly dark chocolate ones and said lowly, "Was hoping I'd convince you to let me keep you."

Peter didn't have a chance to form a reply in his mind and bring it to life before Tony's whole demeanor quickly changed. His posture became more loose, shoulders softening and his face grew into a soft smile that showed his perfectly straight white teeth. He shoved a hand into his pocket and clapped the other on Peter's shoulder, leading him farther into the penthouse. "Let me show you around!" His voice seemed different. A little louder, a little less calculating. More friendly almost. Peter ignored the sudden change in his behavior and the way his skin seemed to crawl under the man's heavy hand, but he filed away the mental note for later, glad to feel slightly less awkward under Stark's formerly almost cold eyes. 

Mr. Stark showed Peter around the living areas in the penthouse, giant state of the art living room with technology Peter only dreamed of owning, cozy breakfast nook that looked like it was straight from a French housewares magazine, the special features built into the place. He passed over a closed door that Peter assumed must have been the older man's bedroom and didn't ask what was behind the door. It really was amazing, but Peter was excited to see the lab. He knew it had to be way better than the ones in his high school. 

"Mr. Stark, can you show me the lab?" He finally asked, curiosity getting the best of him, looking up into the older's eyes imploringly. He saw a flash of something mysterious pass over Stark's features and felt a small chill run up his spine, but he shook off the feeling and continued, "Please Mr. Stark? I'm dying to see how great it must be!”

Stark's lips curled into a strange smile that hid his teeth and his shoulders seemed to stiffen, becoming rigid and square again. His eyes hardened and he spoke in the strange quiet voice when he replied.  
"Of course, I can't wait to show you my favorite room." His hand tightened on Peter's shoulder in a way that bordered on uncomfortable and he steered him toward the elevator to take him down.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter gets to see Stark's lab, and other things. 
> 
> It's pretty much just smut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really a mathematical person, or scientific in any way so anything on the subject will probably be glossed over in favour of the rest of the story, hope that doesn't bother anyone! I'll be adding tags as they come up in the story!

Mr. Stark pressed the button on the elevator that would take them to the laboratory with his free hand, his other still gripping Peter's shoulder. Once the room started slowly crawling downward, so did Stark's hand. He slid his fingers down the younger's spine, coming to rest on the small of his back with a pressure that Peter felt on his back as well as in his stomach. His heart stuttered as he wrestled with the feeling of the strange man tainting his stomach with an almost queazy feeling and his clear arousal at the touch. It was a very strange feeling. He suppressed a shudder as he felt the man's fingers tracing small shapes against the thin fabric of his shirt but felt himself starting to become half hard in his pants. Quickly, he clasped his hands together in front of himself in a move that he hoped was nonchalant and kept his eyes trained on the numbers flashing on the elevator. He cursed his teenage hormones.  
It must have been the slowest elevator in history. He felt himself break into a cold sweat once again, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He started to wonder if anyone else was in the massive shining tower with them and the thought that he hadn't seen anyone on the ground floor did nothing to help his unease. 

"I built the lab myself." Stark's soft velvety voice startled Peter from his thoughts and they turned to look at each other for the first time since they entered the elevator. His face seemed impossibly calm and expressionless, compared to all of the ranges it had been through that morning already. "I drew up all the floor plans. Built the robots by hand, you know, the small stuff." Peter couldn't tell if he was trying to joke or not. Something about the man made Peter feel nervous, like a mouse that was invited to dinner with a snake, but he chalked it up to being so close to such an attractive stranger. He glanced down at his still bare feet and his arousal pressed against his folded hands, face staining with a pink blush. He cleared his throat and looked at Stark again, trying to think about science. "That's amazing," he responded. "The labs in my school are so bare minimum, it's hard to get anything done. You have to share a beaker with like, six people. Do you have assistants?”  
Stark shook his head. "Technically, no. I built a few robots that help out all over the tower, but no one human." As he spoke, his fingers started gathering the fabric of Peter's shirt and pulling it up, exposing the skin of his lower back to the chill air. Peter tried to swallow but his mouth was still so dry. He should have asked for a glass of water while they were standing in the kitchen.  
"So no one else is in the tower?" He tried not to sound as small as he felt.  
"Well, I have visitors from time to time. Clearly." He added, with a nod Peter's direction. Finally, as Peter was just beginning to feel the man's cool fingertips ghosting across his spine, the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. Peter practically jumped from the elevator, away from Stark's lingering hand, and into the massive laboratory. He was immediately taken aback by just how amazing it actually was. So many tools, machines, telescopes and microscopes and all manner of equipment that he could't wait to learn about and possibly get his hands on. "Woah!" He exclaimed breathily, unable to decide where to begin. 

"Go ahead, have a look around!" Stark said. His voice was different again, it was the loud, inviting voice. Peter wondered if maybe Stark had two personalities or something. He watched as Peter bounded around like a kid in a candy shop, exclaiming happily at every turn.  
"This is amazing! You built this?! I can't believe it, you MUST be a genius!” he rambled and chattered as he moved from station to station. Even the first aid kit hanging on the wall was bigger, better and more state of the art than any that Peter had ever seen. Stark laughed warmly and turned his attention to some half completed project that he'd left on the work bench before today so that Peter could enjoy himself. There would be plenty of time to mentor him.

After a while, Peter turned his attention from the slides he'd been gleefully examining under the most beautiful microscope he'd ever seen to look toward the older man, who was tinkering with some kind of robotic arm or something of the sort. They'd been there for a good chunk of the afternoon already and Peter had been having the time of his life, but it was starting to get later in the day. "Um, Mr. Stark?” he called out timidly. "Hmm?" Stark hummed back in response, not looking up from his wrench and socket. 

"I think I should get heading back home soon" he said, reluctance clearly etched on his face. Stark turned at that and looked toward the teen. "Why would you, so soon?" he asked, eyebrows furrowed slightly. Peter flushed lightly but before he had a chance to speak, his stomach rumbled loudly. His blush deepened and he smiled sheepishly. Stark chuckled lowly and set his tools down. "Why don't we have lunch first and talk a bit. Before you go." It was more a statement than a question. Peter smiled broadly and agreed. They both walked back into the (painfully slow) elevator. Peter tried his best to stay out of arms reach from Mr. Stark and thankfully, he stayed an arms length away willingly. 

"So what did you think?" Stark asked, a touch too loud for the small room. "It's amazing! I've never seen anything so great!" Peter gushed, waving his hands around as he talked excitedly. Stark beamed as he listened to Peter.

"So you'll consider staying?" Stark asked when Peter finally had to take a breath. A cold finger of unease slid down Peter's spine again but he brushed it aside. "I mean, I could definitely start coming over to help with things in the lab, I'd love to!" He'd already forgotten about the strange request from the older man, but now it seemed like it might be something he'd like to do.  
"Excellent." Stark said in response, as the doors slid open, back on the top floor. 

Soon, they were both sitting at Stark's perfectly pristine table, eating sandwiches on some fancy, nutty bread Peter had never heard of and chatting about science and school and grades, and Peter forgot that he was ever uncomfortable in the first place. He started to feel at home already with the strange, attractive man. They finish eating and put their plates and glasses in the sink, to be washed by one of Stark's (wow! That's amazing!) robots. Peter thought about the conversation from earlier in the penthouse and remembered something else Stark had said. "So, you did research on me?" He asked, suddenly sheepish. Stark smiled and it wasn't wholly uncomfortable to Peter. "I did" was the simple response.  
Peter waited a beat, then pressed "Well? What did you... You know, what did you... think?" Tony breathed a huff of a laugh and responded to Peter. "I think you're very bright. I _like_ bright. I think you're a kind, wonderful person, and damn if you aren't something sweet to look at." He didn't break eye contact as he said it, looking Peter directly in the eyes. Peter felt his face burn at the statement and he floundered for a moment trying to find words, but nothing came out. "I, uh..." He hid his hands in the sleeves of his sweater and shuffled his feet, acutely aware of how rigid his spine felt. Flirting wasn't supposed to be so uncomfortable was it? Stark chuckled and clicked his tongue as he looked the boy up and down appraisingly. "Even better in person" he tacked on quietly. Peter looked down at his feet trying to hide under his chestnut curls, face impossibly red. 

Peter didn't have a lot of experience with people and attractions. At least, not people having attractions to him. It's probably not as strange as he felt it was. He thought the genius before him was attractive too, so... That was good right? He finally looked up and met the slightly taller man's eyes. "Um, thank you Mr-Mr. Stark" he finally managed to force out, face still burning. The older man pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and smiled at the teen, leaning his elbow onto the counter behind him. Peter felt like he was being examined and didn't know what to do, so he just stood and looked at Stark's bare feet, sweater paws tucked behind his back. 

Finally, Stark moved to sit on the large suede couch in the open living space to their left. He looked at Peter once he'd sat and held his arm out in invitation. "Come," he said simply. Peter's heart started beating wildly out of his chest and he glanced toward the elevator again. He could just leave. He glanced back at the attractive man, inviting him to sit and obediently followed the simple command. He sat gingerly on the sofa next to Stark. He was half a space away but Stark wrapped his arm around his boney shoulders and slid him over toward himself. He kept tugging Peter's shoulders until he was forced into practically laying across the man's chest, head on his shoulder. Peter's breathing was fast and his face burned crimson but he consciously tried to stay quiet. His heart hammered in his chest, his hands folded in his own lap, arms rigid and palms sweaty. 

"You should relax sweetheart, you're so tense." Tony purred seductively into Peter's ear, the dark stubble on his chin scratching lightly against it.  
"I'm- 'm sorry sir" Peter managed to breathe out and Stark chuckled quietly. "Why don't you let me help you relax, hmmm?" He hummed. His large hands gripped Peter's shoulders then, thumbs rubbing lightly in circles as he continued humming to himself. Peter tried to calm himself but he could feel the heat from Stark's hands going straight to the half hard bulge in his pants, and he squeezed his eyes shut trying to will it away. He breathed deeply and deliberately, telling himself that his reaction was just from beimg touched and not necessarily because he _wanted_ it. Stark ran his hands from Peter's shoulders down his arms firmly and slowly a few times. After a few moments, Stark placed his larger hand across Peter's clavicles, spanning his pinky from Peter's shoulder to his thumb in the hollow between collar bones and slowly ran it across his thin chest back and forth. Peter shivered and sucked in a small gasp when he felt a pinky graze across his nipple, hardening on it's own accord. Stark lingered for a moment, playing with the little nub of sensitive skin with the pad of his pinky, smirk etched across his face. Suddenly, his large hand slid upward, circling gently around the boys' skinny throat with the slightest of pressure, thumb pushing his chin up towards him. He looked Peter in the eye, ran his tongue across his own pink lips, then leaned forward to claim Peter's mouth. He pressed soft lips into Peter's, slowly at first, tongue trying to convince Peter to part his. Peter's eyes fluttered shut and he allowed Stark to take control, becoming completely compliant. The older man let out a low quiet groan once his tongue felt the teens' shy one and immediately he deepened the kiss. His hands began to roam Peter's chest again, dipping lower onto his stomach, pulling his shirt up to expose the smooth skin underneath. Peter's cock was fully hard by that point and starting to leak with his excitement. His gave no resistance to the older man's wishes, lifting his arms to help him remove the cotton shirt from his chest, but internally he was screaming at himself to leave. 

Once the shirt was off and discarded to the floor, Stark's hand wrapped around Peter's rib cage, pulling his chest upwards and he wrapped warm wet lips around one of Peter's pink nipples. Peter let out a loud gasp and gripped a handful of Stark's hair, pulling gently to keep the pressure right where it was. He couldn't help his hips from canting up into the air toward the heat from Mr Stark's body as he let out a low moan. Stark's hand moved suddenly from Peter's ribs to grab Peter's crotch in a firm grip. He pulled his head up and watched Peter's face as he began to rub the hard desire in Peter's pants. Peter's face screwed up in mortified pleasure, mouth falling open, gasps and moans tumbling out. Stark kept the pressure as he watched Peter's face, hard enough to almost hurt. Peter whimpered, practically sitting in Stark's lap and rutting against the large warm hand that held him fast. His brain was short circuiting and all he could think was a mantra of "pleasure pleasure pain pleasure Mr Stark"

Suddenly, Stark grabbed a fistful of Peter's curls and pulled, _hard_ , forcing the boys' spine to go ramrod straight. A loud whine escaped his mouth at the pain of it. He yanked the teens' hair like a lead and pulled him off the couch, landing him on his knees between the older man's legs with a thud. He kept his fingers fisted in the teens' soft curls with one hand and with the other he unbuttoned and unzipped his black jeans and released his large hard cock. Peter's eyes grew huge at the sight of it, nerves tingling. "Mr Stark, I can't- I never-" his words were cut off by a sharp jerk from the hand in his hair, letting out a sharp yelp of pain. "You _can_ do it." Stark said matter of factly, giving a strong tug to lead the boys face toward his lap. "Mr Stark, Mr Stark!-" Peter tried to cry but his words were muffled by the hot, hard cock pressing against his lips and forcing it's way in. He whimpered around the heavy weight of it, squeezing his eyes shut. He could smell the hot and heady aroma of the older man and his fingers dug into the soft denim clad thighs that encircled his body. "Suck, baby boy," Stark groaned breathily. 

Peter's mouth began to salivate at the taste of the bitter precome that was beginning to leak from the tip of Stark's cock. He did his best to relax his throat and give in to the older man's desires. Soon he was bobbing his head shallowly and moaning slightly around the throbbing thickness on his tongue. He barely had half of the man's length inside, but Stark began to lift his hips up into Peter's mouth, making him gag a few times before he pulled Peter off with a dirty pop. He smiled darkly into the boys' face as he gasped for air, swollen lips trembling. He then forced him back down, making him swallow his whole length in one go. Peter gagged loudly and desperately fought the hand in his hair to emerge again, but to no avail. Stark began fucking up into Peter's mouth more steadily now, delighting in the teens panicked movements, body spasming around his gags. "Mmm, sweetheart, you're so good, so so good" he moaned loudly, fucking faster. Finally, he pulled Peter off again and Peter retched, tears streaming down his face and he fought to fill his lungs with air. "Please!-" he managed to shout shrilly before he was pushed back down again. "It's ok, I'm almost finished baby," Stark moaned calmly, ignoring the teens' plea. Peter gripped the man's thighs tight and tried desperately to fill his burning lungs with oxygen. He continued to gag and retch as Stark fucked harder and harder into his throat, unrelentingly. He could tell that the man was close by the sounds and the tastes emanating from him but his vision started to tunnel in and white spots began blooming across his eyes. He felt his hands begin to loosen and tried his best to stay awake but within a moment, all he could see was white, hearing faded and no control over his body anymore. 

When Peter woke up, his head was pounding and he was laying on Stark's large couch alone. He sat up, wincing at the throbbing pain in his head and throat and a tear escaped his eye as he remembered what happened before he blacked out. His shirt was back on, sloppy and crooked. He looked around and saw Stark in the kitchen pouring a glass of water. The older man turned toward Peter and saw him stirring. "Oh, good morning sunshine! You were asleep for about 20 minutes." He says nonchalantly, as if he was addressing the weather. He padded over to where Peter sat and handed the water to Peter, pressing some ibuprofen into his hands. "For the headache" he said, as if he needed to clarify. Peter silently accepted both gratefully, swallowing the 4 pills all at once. He winced at the pain in his throat. 

"...Did...did you..." He couldn't seem to finish the question out loud.  
Tony sat next to him again and smiled at him, resting his head on his fist. "Finish?" He supplied.  
Peters face flushed and he nodded, head down.  
"I did, you were so good baby. You did _so_ good sweetheart. Such a good boy for daddy."  
Peter's head snapped up and his mouth opened as if to protest the title but he brushed it of, thinking better of it and asked, "In my-down my..." He stuttered. Stark chuckled a deep gravelly sound. "No, you blacked out before I finished, so I came on your face. I cleaned you up though," he says, looking as content as the proverbial cat that ate the proverbial canary. Peter felt shame wash over him and hot tears pricked his eyes again. Stark wrapped around his rigid shoulders again, pulling him closer. "Shh, sweetheart don't worry, next time it'll be your turn to come, I promise," he said in a way that Peter was sure was _meant_ to be soothing. Next time? Peter thought as a sliver of cold horror slid down his spine. He must have had that same horror etched onto his face because Stark responded with "Of course, you're going to come back. My lab and home are completely at your disposal, any time of the day or night. And I know where you live, so I can just come get you," he added the last bit of information with a dangerous look in his eyes. It was a warning. Peter _had_ to come back. It wasn't a choice.  
"It's getting late baby boy, why don't I have my driver take you home?" Peter swallowed his fear and agreed, grateful to finally be allowed to go home. Stark kissed his cheek softly and whispered, "It's Tony by the way."

The ride back was silent, tears falling hot and thick down his face as he stared blankly out the window. The driver was a man older than Peter himself but younger than Stark, maybe early thirties. He was a slim, attractive man with dark shaggy hair and dark stubble that contrasted large ice blue eyes. He watched Peter in the rearview mirror sadly.  
Peter wondered when he'd have to see Stark again. He quietly thanked the driver when they pulled up in front of his apartment building. The driver silently nodded, that same sad expression clear in his eyes. It looked like pity to Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading if you made it this far, and as before, I appreciate your feedback and keeping it civil if this isn't exactly your ship!  
> This is the first time I've ever written smut, it's a bit darker than I would normally do but this is definitely dark Tony.


	3. Chapter 3

Peter had ridden the elevator up to the floor he lived on with his Aunt May and thankfully, it wasn't nearly as slow as the one at the tower he'd just come from. He'd quietly entered the small apartment and went straight to his bedroom and the small bathroom that was connected. He'd shed his clothes and turned on the shower as hot as it possibly could go. Once he'd stepped inside, he'd scrubbed his face over and over, thinking about the last bit of conversation he'd had with Tony Stark.

_"..Did...did you..."_

He remembered his unfinished question and scrubbed his face harder.

 _"Finish?"_  
He'd ended Peter's question unconcernedly.  
_"I did, you were so good baby. You did so good sweetheart. Such a good boy for daddy."_  
Peter squeezed more soap onto his washcloth and scrubbed his tender throat.

 _"In my-down my..."_  
Stark had laughed at his fearful question.

_"No, you blacked out before I finished, so I came on your face. I cleaned you up though"_

It echoed in Peter's ears. 

_"Came on your face. Cleaned you up though. Cleaned you up though. On your face. Cleaned you up tho."_

Peter let out a quiet sob and scrubbed again, head to toe. He paid special attention to the places where he could still feel Stark's hateful fingers on him.

45 minutes later, he'd finally emerged from his bedroom. He'd dressed in an oversized gray shirt and sweatpants that barely clung to his boney hips. He wanted to hide within himself. He took notice of the vegetable lasagna that was on the stove, clearly left out for him by May. He'd felt a small bit of happiness warm the ice that had encased his heart. May must have gone to bed already, having to work early the next morning.  
He sighed and put the leftovers in a Tupperware container, unable to even think about eating yet. His stomach was so sour, he feared he'd never be able to eat again.

He slept fitfully that night, dreaming about a man shrouded in shadow dragging him around by his hair and laughing at his pleas to be let go. He woke in a cold sweat more than once that night. When the sun had finally risen he didn't feel rested at all, but he couldn't force himself to try to sleep anymore. He trudged back to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee for him and his aunt, who would be leaving for her shift soon. Once it was done he poured himself a cup and sat at the small island and stared at the floor; visions of bare feet trying to creep into his subconscious mind.

"Hey sweetie!" May sang out once she came out of her bedroom. "How'd it go? You were gone so long, you must have been having a great time!” She poured herself some of the coffee as well.

Peter forced a fake smile across his face and answered, "It was great! You wouldn't believe how big his lab is, it's amazing. And he built it himself!” he forced out.  
_You wouldn't believe what he did to me_ he thought to himself sadly.

"That sounds great honey, I'm so glad it went well. Do you think you'll be going back again today?" Peter suppressed a shudder and thought about Stark's _...and I know where you live..._ and suddenly realized that he didn't know what Stark was capable of. What if he hurt May?

"Uh... I'm not sure. I might wait a day or two, you know, just so he doesn't get too sick of me, too soon."

 _Until my throat doesn't hurt anymore_ he added to himself.

"Well, alright honey. I'm so proud of you. I gotta work a double today so I probably won't be home until after you go to bed tonight. Sorry, sweetheart. Just remember to text me if you do go, I don't want to be worried about you," she said, grabbing her shoes and giving him a peck on the cheek before running out the door.

Peter looked around the small apartment in the dim morning light and heaved a sigh. He didn't know what to do with himself yet. He could make plans to hang out with his friends but the thought of being around people so soon made him feel anxious. He didn't want to be left alone with his thoughts either though, so he decided to wrap himself in a blanket on the couch and watch one of his favorite comfort movies.  
He was just trying to decide between Lilo and Stitch or Treasure Planet when he heard his phone ding. It wasn't the familiar tone he'd set for either of his two best friends or aunt May either. He stood and padded the short distance to his bedroom and grabbed his cell. He opened a message that simply said "Hey"

His brow furrowed as he responded with  
"Who's this?"  
He placed the phone in the oversized pocket of his sweats and went back to the living room, but before he'd had a chance to do anything, his phone dinged again.

He opened the message and his stomach dropped.

"Tony"  
the message read.  
"I was hoping you weren't too busy today. I'd like you to come over again."

Peter broke out into a cold sweat and his heart started to hammer in his ears. How had he gotten his number? He'd never given it to him.  
Of course, Peter thought, if he knows where I live it would be easy to find my other information as well. He had even told Peter that he'd done "research" on him. Peter fearfully wondered how much Stark actually did know about him already. His fingers hovered over the keyboard trying to think of some response. Could he tell him no? He'd tried to yesterday.  
_"Mr Stark, I can't- I never-"_  
His words had been cut off and Stark had replied simply with  
_"You can do it"_  
He hadn't been given a choice.

He tried to swallow, trying to decide what to do when another message popped up.  
"Don't think too hard. I'm not a patient person, can you come or not?"  
Peter let out a quiet whimper and tried to hold back tears. His body started shaking. He dropped his phone onto the couch and dragged his shaking, sweating palms across his knobby knees. His phone dinged from beside him for a fourth time.

"Wear jeans and a plain t-shirt. Something that shows off that great ass of yours."  
Peter's head dropped into his hands and he let the tears flow freely, decision having been made for him.

About 20 minutes later, Peter had finally managed to stop his tears and gotten himself dressed. He'd tried a few pairs of jeans and decided on the pair of soft worn denim that hugged his figure the least and a plain black t-shirt that fit him loosely. He hoped it would make him look less appealing to the older man, but he didn't really know what the man preferred, so he was just going on hopes.

His phone dinged again.

"My car is waiting for you outside."

Peter steeled his nerves and made his way to the sidewalk out front. When he stepped out of the doors to his building he saw the same black car he'd ridden in yesterday and the handsome blue eyed driver was standing outside the car waiting for him.  
Now that Peter saw him standing, he could see that he was just shorter than himself, lean and with dark stubble across his chin and cheeks. His light, crystal blue eyes lit up in the morning sunshine. It was only 10 am.  
As soon as the driver spotted him, his eyes widened and he ran to meet Peter before he'd crossed to the car. "You can't wear that," he said, voice hushed.  
"Wha-" Peter's question was cut off by the man's urgent "You _can't_ wear that, you have to change, quick," Peter scanned the older man's outfit, quickly. Form fitting plain blue v-neck shirt, fitted straight leg denim jeans. Peter was annoyed and confused but noted the urgency in the man's eyes and ran to quickly change and get back downstairs.

When he exited the building again just a short seven minutes later, the man looked incredibly relieved to see him wearing clothes that were better fitting. He smiled his strange sad smile and opened the door for Peter.

Once they'd started their trip, Peter decided to ask about the man's strange reaction to his first outfit.  
"Why did I have to change?" he questioned. The man's sad looking blue eyes met his own dark honey ones in the rearview mirror.  
"He asked you to wear something specific?" he asked his own question in return.  
"Yeah but-" he was cut off again.

"You should just do what he says. He likes to be in control. Don't try to fight back or outsmart him. The punishment is worse." Peter's skin crawled at that statement.

"You know about him?” Peter asked the man quietly. He'd nodded in response.

Peter thought for a moment before pressing, "Does he... Does he _do_ things to you too?" his voice just above a whisper.  
The man just dropped his eyes from Peter's and looked back toward the road. Peter took his silence as an answer in the affirmative.

"I'm Peter."

"Bucky" the driver replied. "Names actually James, but... Everyone calls me Bucky. Used to, before-" he'd trailed off.

The rest of the drive was silent.

When they arrived at the tower, Bucky pulled the car into the underground parking garage underneath of the building and got out to open the door for Peter. They got into the horribly slow elevator and Peter's pulse sped up so that he could hear it in his ears. He glanced at Bucky. The older man looked sad again, eyes trained to the numbers above the elevator door, hands folded obediently behind his back. Bucky glanced over at Peter. "Just do whatever he wants." He said quietly.

The door dinged open when they reached the penthouse and Bucky stepped off immediately, followed by a shy Peter, who was trying his best to hide behind the other man without looking like he was hiding. Stark was in the kitchen stirring a cup of coffee. He turned and looked over the two before him from over the rim of his mug. He hummed in appreciation, scanning them both from head to toe. He clicked his tongue and breathed out, "What a pretty picture you two are."

Peter's face was stained with a flush of heat and he shuffled his weight from foot to foot nervously. Bucky stood obedient and still. If Peter hadn't been standing behind Bucky, he wouldn't have noticed the way his hands fidgeted behind his back. Stark walked over to the two of them and Peter couldn't help but glance down at his feet. He had on socks today that were green and silver striped beneath his light wash jeans. Peter would have thought it was funny that he wore Slytherin colors if it weren't for the situation. Stark grabbed Peter by the arm, startling him out of his thoughts and yanked him out from behind Bucky.  
"No need to hide" he said, tone sounding almost bored, ignoring Peter's audible wince from the tight grip. He turned away from them then, walking back to the kitchen to retrieve his mug of coffee.  
"I normally wouldn't have called you back here so soon. Would have given you more time to process and think about my offer to stay but..." He takes a sip and appraises Peter again. "I just couldn't stop thinking about you." He finished. Peter's face went hot and he ducked his head away from Stark's gaze. Stark took his mug into the living room and sat comfortably on the sofa. Peter felt his stomach roil at the thought of that couch.  
"Buck," he said from where he'd perched.  
"Sit there, in the chair." He pointed to the armchair across from the sofa. Bucky immediately unfolded his hands and obeyed.  
"Pete," he'd continued. "Come"

The same simple command from yesterday. Peter fought the urge to run or throw up and drug his feet toward the sofa again, as if walking through jello. Stark held his arm out the same way he did the day before. Peter felt nausea climb from his stomach and into his sinuses. He forced himself to sit down next to the oldest and shoved thoughts of choking and blacking out as far as he could from his mind. Stark set his coffee on the table in front of them and wrapped his arm around the slender boys' shoulders.  
"I promised yesterday that you'd get to come next time we played." He said with a dark grin on his face. Peter physically twitched and jumped, as if to run away at the words, but Stark must have been expecting that. He clamped his hand down on Peter's shoulder and forced him to sit still on the couch. Something angry crossed his face at the movement and he growled into Peter's ear,  
"Don't do that sweetie. You won't like what happens when you disobey me." Peter gasped at the hard pressure on his shoulder and suppressed a whimper. His body betrayed him and he could feel his cock twitching to life in his jeans from the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. He glanced up at Bucky, who sat watching quietly, face blank except for the urgent look in his eyes, warning Peter.

"I'm sorry sir," Peter whispered out, voice shaking and cracking. Stark relaxed and his smile played across his lips again.

"Good boy," he purred, voice coming gravelly and low from his chest. Peter shuddered at the vibrations he felt through the couch and where the man's arm rested across his shoulders. His body was a traitor. He pressed his hands into his lap, trying not to be affected by the man's depravity. Suddenly, a hot wet mouth circled his throat, just beneath his jaw, teeth scraping and tongue lapping across his skin.  
He let out a small moan and tilted his head to allow him more access. He couldn't deny that it felt good to be touched this way physically, but his insides crawled at how much he didn't really want it.

"Mr Stark," he said quietly. Stark just hummed into the kisses, licks and nips that he was placing all over the boys' throat. Peter shuddered out a sigh and continued  
"Mr Stark, please don't leave any marks, my aunt will see." His eyes stayed closed nervously as he said it.  
Stark stopped what he was doing and chuckled.  
"You mean, don't let anyone see that I've marked you as mine?” he said, wicked glint in his eyes. Peter shuddered again and turned his head away at the words. Stark laughed again and grabbed the hem of Peter's shirt, pulling it off forcefully and a touch painfully. He attacked Peter's chest with his teeth and tongue and said to Peter,  
"How about where people won't see?” He didn't wait for a response and started sucking a painful mark onto Peter's chest, hard enough the break the skin. Peter yelped and grabbed Stark's hair reflexively in an attempt to pry him off, but Stark just chuckled louder and sucked a trail of bruises down Peter's stomach while Peter yelped beneath him.  
"Please, Mr Stark, that hurts!" He cried out to no avail. He glanced at Bucky again, cheeks reddening at the thought of an audience to his assault, but saw that the man has his eyes squeezed closed tightly. Peter felt grateful for this small detail.  
His attention was turned back to Stark though when he started ripping the button and zipper open on Peter's jeans. He felt like a ragdoll being tossed around by a cruel child as his hips jostled up and down from the force of it. Stark growled as Peter's sharp hip bones escaped the denim protection of his jeans and licked a long slow stripe on each one. Peter shuddered and his body went rigid. Stark began sliding his pants down his legs, revealing the boys' bright red boxer briefs underneath.  
They did little to conceal the hard length of him and the wet spot that was spreading through the fabric. Peter whined and his hands flailed, fighting himself in an attempt to cover himself and also to keep his hands obediently at his sides, floating somewhere between both.

"Are you a virgin, Petey Pie?" Stark growled out in a dark, quiet voice. He looked up at Peter to meet his eyes and there was still blood lightly tainting his teeth pink from the first tear at the boy's chest. Peter flushed deep red again and his knees tried to bring themselves together in an effort to protect himself. Stark roughly forced Peter's knees open wide and Peter yelped.  
"You keep your legs open for your Daddy." he growled, tone warning Peter. A few hot tears slipped from Peter's eyes and he tried to remember how this had happened to him.  
Stark saw him trying to retreat into the safety of his mind rather than being present and abruptly brought it to a stop.  
He snapped his fingers loudly, startling Peter.  
"No, you stay with me. Right here, baby boy." A sob escaped Peter's chest.  
"I'm going to make you feel good, baby" Tony purred at him. "Gonna make you feel so good and full and wet, you'll be begging for more like a dirty little slut"

Peter panicked and decided to try to pull himself free from the man on top of him. He grabbed the arm of the couch above his head and pulled himself quickly, sliding right out from where he was pinned, turning and attempting to make a break for the elevator as soon as his feet hit the floor.

But Stark was faster. And now he was _angry._  
Peter felt Stark's solid weight collide with his back and then he was being thrown to the hard floor with a thud, chin smacking as he landed. His head immediately felt dazey and his body fell limp. He felt Stark's fingers grab a fistful of soft curls and then he was hauled to his feet. His hands reflexively grabbed Stark's wrists, foggy brain anticipating the pain but he didn't really feel it. His head was swimming. Stark lead him down a hallway, the same hallway he'd been shown around the day before, towards the door that hadn't been opened. He was right, it was Stark's bedroom.  
It was huge and dim and red. In another situation, he would have been taken aback by the huge expanse of it and the richness of the velvety colors and textures. He felt himself being thrown onto the massive bed but he still couldn't get his bearings. He heard Stark snap again from the doorway, followed by Bucky's obedient footsteps quickly following down the hall.  
His vision was still spinning and he rolled over on to his side, trying to curl into himself. He felt the bed dip and move under the man's weight and then he was being dragged into a sitting position by his wrists. He didn't fight back, he couldn't even if it had occurred to his addled mind.  
He could feel his hands being bound by a coarse rope and it bit at his soft skin, then he was being hoisted up onto his feet and the rope was secured to something above him. He could feel Stark's strong hands securing the rope and another pair of softer hands holding his hips up to help support his weight. Bucky's hands felt warm.

It took a few minutes for Peter to come back to himself but when he did, he realized that he was tied to the ceiling above Stark's bed, toes just barely able to reach. His body was stretched to the max and his bones ached. He looked around and saw Bucky looking up at him with his sad blue eyes. He shook his head at him mournfully. Peter felt too exposed, wearing nothing but his boxers and his ribs and hips jutting out. He hated feeling so vulnerable.  
He let out a gentle sob and it got the oldest of the threes' attention from where he stood in his large walk in closet on the side of the room.

His face looked absolutely wicked as he emerged with leather tools in his hands. Peter didn't know what they were, but he recognized a leather riding crop as one of the things he wielded and his body shuddered.  
Stark climbed up on the bed to stand before him and he forced a rubber ball into his mouth, attaching it with a leather strap around the back of his head. He wasn't gentle when he tightened it and it forced Peter's mouth open wide, making his whole mouth and jaw ache from the attack the day before, as well as the fall on his chin. He whimpered and whined around the gag, drooling a little. 

Stark looked up at Peter with dark eyes.  
"You're a very bad boy," he stated, anger dripping from every word. "I'm going to punish you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to write the next chapter. Hope you're all enjoying!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dark, dark, dark. Smutty and smuttier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter is a little shorter than the others but I've been taking more time on it to make sure there are no errors and really make it good. I hope you like it and it's not too disappointing or anything! It's still pretty dark so just be forewarned! Also, I;ve just figured out how to code italics, revising and hoping for the best. Working out the kinks ( ;} )

Peter trembled where he hung from the ceiling, shoulders already beginning to ache. Stark brandished the riding crop menacingly, lightly slapping it against his palm as he slowly stalked circles around the teen. He drank in the sight of his exposed, creamy, pale skin; the only marks, made by the likes of Tony Stark himself. The thought brought a small cold smile to his face and he traced the soft leathery end of the crop across each mark, admiring his work. He hummed appreciatively to himself. Peter's red boxer briefs had slipped lower in the struggle and his sharp hip bones jutted out above the elastic band. Stark lightly slapped each one experimentally, watching Peter jerk in anxiety.

"I don't like when my boys are bad, Peter." Another light slap against his hip. Peter whimpered quietly, watching Stark's movements. 

"I _chose_ you, Peter." He continued, "I heard about your achievements and when I saw your picture, I knew I had to have you." He stalked around to the other side of the bed, behind Peter and ran the crop over the exposed top of Peter's ass, dimple to dimple. Peter whimpered again and shuddered, trying to prepare himself for a blow. "You're so beautiful, Peter. And so sweet and innocent looking. And _oh, so smart._ I _like_ smart. I could have chosen any of the other boys from that science competition to share my lab and expertise with. But I chose _you_ , Peter. I don't appreciate _insolence._ " He said, anger dripping from his words like venom. Stark drew his arm back and swung, hard. The crop landed unexpectedly on the soft flesh of Peter's inner thigh and he shrieked, muffled by the ball gag. 

"Bad boys get _punished,_ ” Stark said menacingly, punctuating the last word with another sharp crack of the crop on the other thigh. Peter started whimpering louder and pulling on the restraints that held his wrists above him uselessly, tears streaming down his face. Peter kept his eyes shut tightly, willing his punishment to end. Stark landed a few more blows, sharp and painful, to the skin just below Peter's ass and between his legs. The sensitive skin welted almost immediately and throbbed with red hot pain. Peter couldn't hold back his shrieks when the leather bit into his flesh. Stark admired the angry red marks that contrasted against his pretty white skin and then quickly moved to stand in front of him again. He grabbed the front of Peter's boxers, clamping Peter's sensitive boy parts in his fist, fingers slipping between his cheeks to press at the sensitive skin behind his balls. His wet spot of precome had started drying, Peter having gone soft a while ago. Stark rubbed circles over it with his thumb and Peter jerked and whined at the unwelcome touch, and how close it was to the screaming pain between his legs. He loosed another loud whine. 

"You see, good boys _Peter,_ good boys get rewarded." He began to rub Peter's soft cock with his palm, fingers pressing his perineum and into the cleft of his ass, crossing over from being firm to verging on painful territory. "Isn't that right, Buck?"

Bucky stood quickly from where he sat huddled in the corner and moved to stand just a step behind Stark, head down compliantly.

"Yes daddy," he responded quietly, obediently. Stark continued. 

"See Buck here, he had to learn the hard way too. Might even still have a few scars after all these years."He reached behind him to grab Bucky by the back of the head and thrust him forward, toward where Peter hung suspended. Bucky stumbled but stayed silent and pliant, eyes cast downward. Bucky, like himself, was almost a full head shorter than Stark. Stark must be at least six feet tall, aiding to his dominating demeanor.

Stark reached out and grabbed Peter's boxers and yanked them down in one fluid movement, fabric pooling around the boys' ankles. Peter whined and tried to bring his knees together reflexively. There was a metal bar secured around both of his ankles, keeping his thighs spread apart. He hadn't even realized until now. He hung in the middle of the room completely naked, thighs screaming in pain, crying and drooling around the ball gag and a loud sob escaped his chest at just how helpless he was. Stark smirked a little and turned to Bucky. "I want you to suck him." He commanded Bucky. 

Bucky immediately stepped forward, and pulled himself up onto the deep red bedspread. He rested on his knees before the teen and grabbed Peter's hips firmly but gently. He took his soft cock into his mouth and looked up at Peter through dark eye lashes. He suckled lightly at first on the head, tasting the dried precome from before, circling his tongue around the slit. He applied just the right amount of pressure, hollowing his cheeks and Peter could feel himself beginning to lengthen and harden despite himself. 

Bucky started to swallow Peter down in earnest, watching Peter's face through hooded ice blue eyes, bobbing his head. His nose met the soft hairs at the base of Peter's pelvis and he came back up, over and over at a steady pace, slurping and humming Peter into hardness. Peter couldn't stop the moan that passed from his throat, garbled by the gag as he looked down at the seductive sight. Mr Stark smirked coldly, arousal in his features, and watched the scene before him.

"He's good, isn't he? Such a perfect little cock-hungry mouth he has" he purred to Peter, threading his fingers through Bucky's hair and slightly guided his head on Peter's cock. Bucky flattened his tongue and pressed along the bottom of Peter's shaft from root to tip, licking as though it we're an ice cream cone. He then swiped the pointed tip of his tongue through the precome dripping from Peter's slit, causing Peter's hips to jerk forward. Bucky swallowed Peter down fully again, now completely hard and throbbing red. 

Stark's fingers fisted tight in Bucky's soft dark hair, jerking his head still once his red lips reached Peter's pelvis, a soft gag escaping Bucky. Stark rocked Bucky's head side to side a few times slowly, Bucky's rough dark stubble scraping the sensitive skin at the root of Peter's cock, nose pressed against his pelvis, breathing loudly through his nose. Shocks of pleasure coursed through Peter and he moaned loudly, drool leaking from around the ball gag. Bucky remained obediently still, glassy blown pupils gazing up at Peter expectantly.

"Go ahead Peter. Fuck his mouth." 

Peter closed his eyes and reluctantly rutted his hips into Bucky's mouth gently, thankful for the pleasure that helped to aleviate the pain, humiliated at the situation. Stark forced Bucky forward farther, pressing his skull with his fisted knuckles, eliciting a louder gag from the man. 

" _Really_ fuck him Peter. Use him. Use that hot little whore mouth."

Peter's face flushed bright red but he did as he was told, feeling the beginnings of a sweet release building slowly within him as he rolled and snapped his hips the best he could. His toes just barely reached the bed, so he couldn't find much leverage to move. Small moans started falling out of his mouth around the gag and his breathing quickened as he worked harder to chase his orgasm, swaying his hips forward and back. He jerked his hips forward faster and faster, tears starting to leak from Bucky's eyes from Peter's cockhead slamming into the back of his throat. Bucky did his best to keep still, submissively relaxing his throat.

Just as Peter was on the brink and about to cum down Bucky's throat, Stark yanked Bucky's head back roughly by his hair, almost pulling him off the side of the bed. His swollen red lips popped off in an obscene manner and he barely suppressed a yelp, gasping for air, and wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

"Thank you, Daddy," he breathed. It sounded like a learned behavior, rather than something to be thankful for.

Peter whined loudly at the loss of warmth and pressure on his cock, still rutting into the air, dripping crudely onto the bed. Stark chuckled. 

"Bad boys don't get to cum, _Peter._ " he stated, coldly. He reached toward a nightstand that stood near the edge of the bed and pulled a rubber ring from the drawer, wrapping it forcefully around Peter's throbbing cock and balls tightly. Peter let out a cry at the rough treatment and squeezed his eyes shut again. 

Stark continued, "bad boys get _punished,_ " he repeated himself. 

He moved behind Peter again and loosed an onslaught of pain on Peter's ass and inner thighs with the riding crop. He was downright vicious this time, clearly losing control of himself.

"Daddy"  
_Crack_  
"Doesn't"  
_Crack_  
"Like"  
_Crack_  
"Disobedience."  
_Crack_

Peter screamed and squealed around his gag, thrashing wildly against his bonds. The rope cut into his slim wrists, rough and biting.

Stark counted thirty lashes before finally let up on his attack. He panted quietly, swiping his hand across his sweaty forehead. He ran his hand through his messy hair and tugged at his shirt collar in an attempt to pull himself back under control. Peter's flesh burned and throbbed and he was sure he could feel a trickle of blood running down his legs. 

Despite the pain, his cock bobbed painfully, still aching for a release. Bucky watched, trembling slightly, face empathetic to Peter's pain. He knew full well what he was feeling right then. Stark threw the riding crop aside onto the bed and went back to the drawer of the nightstand. He rummaged and pulled out a glass trio of egg shaped triangle things that Peter had never seen before and arranged them from smallest to largest and arranged them on the stand. 

Peter felt his muscles tense in anxiety against the biting ropes binding his wrists, knees uselessly trying to pull together. Stark placed a large bottle of lubricant next to the glass things.

"Help me bring him down," he gently commanded Bucky. 

Together, Bucky lifting Peter's slender body to release the tension on the rope and Stark removing the rope from the hook on the ceiling, keeping Peter bound, they lifted him down. Peter felt a rush of blood and relief to his shoulder joints, having been stretched and pulled for far too long and he huffed a long sigh through his nose. They laid him in the middle of the large bed on his back and he let out a garbled wince at the feeling of the bedspread on his thighs brushing his welts and cuts painfully. 

Stark straddled the teens' naked hips and hovered over him. He practically melted into the bed, exhausted from all the exertions his body had been through already and didn't try to resist the man. There was no clock in the room that Peter could see, but he was sure it wasn't even noon yet. 

His chin still ached from being thrown to the floor and his jaw throbbed from being forced open wide for so long. He tried to catch Stark's dark eyes to silently beg him to remove the silicone ball. 

Once Stark did finally catch Peter's pleading gaze, Peter let out short quiet whimpers, begging like a puppy and gently thrust his chin toward Stark again and again, praying that the man would understand. He hoped his eyes looked pleading enough, blinking thick eyelashes at him rapidly. 

"Are you ready for me to take the gag out, sweetheart?" Stark asked in a quiet voice. Peter nodded his head vigorously, eyes wide. Stark leaned close to Peter's ear and whispered, "I think there's something you should say to Daddy." He drew back and looked into Peter's eyes, conveying a look that held a warning in it. 

He then reached behind Peter's head and began to untie the leather straps that fastened the device to his face. He tugged them slowly, drawing it out and taking his time. An impatient whine escaped Peter before he could stop himself but Stark still took his time, a few of Peter's hairs snapping as he pulled. 

He slowly pulled the silicone ball from the teens' mouth, face so close that Peter could feel his warm breath across his cheeks. Once the ball was finally fully removed, Peter slowly closed his jaw, muscles cracking and aching at the change in position after so long. He longed to rub the sore muscles but his hands were still bound. He swallowed a few times and stretched his swollen lips, letting out a low shuddering moan. 

After a moment Stark cleared his throat, catching Peter's attention. Peter reluctantly met his captors' eyes. Stark reached up to Peter's face and cupped his hand in a C-shape around Peter's sore chin, making him wince. He placed his thumb and middle fingers directly on the hinges of Peter's jaw on either side and began to slowly apply pressure just where he knew it would hurt most. Peter let out a cry and looked pleadingly at Stark, unsure of what he was supposed to say. 

"Peter, daddy is impatient. I think you know what I'd like to hear." He pressed harder on the pressure points, eliciting a sharp yelp from the younger. Tears rolled from the corners of Peter's eyes and he drew in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry Daddy!" He wailed out.  
"I'm sorry, I won't disobey you again, I promise Daddy, please!" He cried shrilly, voice cracking. "I'll do anything you want, anything at all Daddy! Please-please don't hurt me again!" He sobbed, chest heaving. Stark smiled and released his fingers.

"What a good boy you are, Peter." He crooned at the boy. He leaned forward and kissed Peter's swollen lips gently.  
Peter's face flushed in humiliation and he ducked his head into his shoulder. 

"You're so pretty when you beg, baby boy." He leaned forward and peppered his collar bones with light kisses tenderly. 

"I'm so glad you've decided to obey Daddy" he murmured into the hollow of the teens' throat. Stark licked at Peter, kissing and sucking a trail across his Adam's apple and up to the sensitive spot where his jaw met his ear lobe. He nipped at it softly and nuzzled his nose against his temple, beginning to grind his growing erection into Peter's bare stomach. Peter's own erection was just behind where Stark's hips sat, his jeans just barely touching the overly sensitive skin. "So good, baby. Good boys get rewarded." He whispered in his ear, 

"Good boys get to cum."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, do you hate me after this chapter? What would you like to possibly see happen? I live for the comments! Please please leave feedback! I appreciate each and every comment! Chapter 5 is in the works, should be ready to post within a day or two! (09/18)


	5. Chapter 5

Peter moaned at the feeling of Tony's hot mouth on his throat and chest. His dick throbbed painfully from his denied release and he whined high and quiet in his throat. Half of him wanted to beg to be touched, the other half afraid to speak without permission but all of him humiliated by the situation he was in.

He'd never had any kind of romantic or sexual encounters before, and now he was trapped naked under a man he didn't know, hard cock being pressed into his abdomen and wishing for release, while another man stood silently by, watching. He flushed, remembering the attractive man standing silently to the side and glanced over at him. 

Bucky looked on at the oldest and youngest on the bed but his bright blue eyes were glassy and glazed over. Peter thought they were almost so bright that they glowed in the dim, red room and his cock twitched against the ring that trapped it. Bucky's impossibly red lips were still swollen from being wrapped around Peter's cock, parted in his own arousal. His dick throbbed and visibly pressed uncomfortably against the zipper of his tight jeans but he made no move to touch himself. 

Peters mind flashed to how Bucky had looked swallowing him down and gazing up at him through his thick dark lashes just a moment ago and thought he might have liked the pretty older man in different circumstances. Bucky stood so still and so vacant that Peter couldn't tell if he was really there or not on the inside. 

Stark murmured and whispered praises against Peter's soft skin, so different from how he'd been just a moment ago with the riding crop gripped in his fist. Peter shuddered at the thought of it, still laying abandoned next to where they lay on the bed. His inner thighs throbbed painfully, reminding him that it really had happened.

"I believe I asked you a few chapters ago if you were a virgin," Tony whispered into Peter's ears, rutting softly against him. Peter's muscles tensed and his stomach filled with dread. He sucked in a breath, turned his face away and slowly nodded his head in the affirmative. 

Tony's face stretched into a lascivious grin and a low rumbling chuckle rolled from his chest. "How perfect, you sweet little thing," he cooed darkly.  
"For future reference though sweetheart, I'd like you to answer my questions with a 'yes daddy' or 'no daddy'." 

He waited a moment and Peter's face heated again before he whispered out, "Y-ye... Yes, Daddy."  
"Yes _what?_ ” Tony pressed.  
"...Yes, I am a-" he swallowed thickly- "a virgin." Stark smiled and ran his tongue across his lips.  
"Such a good boy, Peter."  
He lifted himself from where he leaned against the teen and moved down to where the spacer bar held Peter's ankles apart and used it to slowly push Peter's ankles toward his body, knees falling open wide. Peter's heart raced again and his muscles twitched anxiously. He hated being so spread open and exposed but knew that the choice wasn't his anymore. 

Tony carefully watched his face and was pleased when Peter stayed still.  
He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss to the sensitive skin just below his scrotum, eliciting a shudder from the younger. He licked an experimental stripe across the boys' tight hole and delighted at the sigh that escaped his throat. He spread Peter's cheeks farther apart with his thumbs and gently suctioned his lips around it and began to flutter his tongue against it, alternating between harder and softer, faster and slower. He pointed his tongue and gently pressed it against the opening, just short of breaching the tight ring of muscle. Peter moaned and lifted his hips off the bed into Tony's mouth.  
Stark pulled back and blew a cool breath across the wet flesh, making Peter shudder. He pressed his face against the teens' body harder this time, pressing his nose into his scrotum and pressing a broad flat tongue against him, licking up and down vigorously. He hummed against him and his facial hair tickled the welts on Peter's thighs, not entirely unpleasantly. Peter's breathing hitched and he started canting his hips up and down, riding Tony's tongue. He murmured words of praise to the boy, working him into a frenzy. Peter was panting and whimpering at the pleasure of the new feeling, cock leaking copious amounts of precome all over his stomach. The cock ring still bound him tightly and painfully, restricting him from coming and his dick throbbed purple and heavy in the air. 

Tony swiped his finger through the puddle of precome on Peter's skin and then pressed it the teens' entrance. Peter's breathing hitched and he let out a high pitched whine, thighs beginning to quake in anticipation and fear. 

"I'm going to be your first, baby boy," Tony whispered excitedly. Peter's face flushed but he did his best to remain still, heart pounding out of his chest. Tony applied a little pressure experimentally and watched Peter's mouth open slightly, eyes unable to focus, glassy with tears. He finally pushed his slicked finger past the tight ring of muscle, not stopping until he reached his second knuckle, relishing in the gasping and heavy breathing coming from the boy. He pushed his finger all the way in and began to slide it back and forth inside him. Peter yelped at the intrusion, arching his back off the bed, brow clammy with sweat. Tony slid his finger in and out slowly for a few minutes before he pulled his thick digit out, reaching for the tub of lube that still sat on the nightstand. He slicked his first two fingers liberally and pushed the first back into Peter's tight wet heat, followed soon by the second. 

Peter audibly winced when the second finger joined the first, stretching him open with a burn.  
"Daddy!” he cried out, hips beginning to wiggle at the pain. Tony chuckled and said "you're alright, sweetheart. It'll get better." He held Peter's hips still with his free hand and slowly and deliberately fucked his fingers into Peter, crooking his fingers toward where he knew he'd find Peter's pleasure spot. After a minute, his thick calloused fingers brushed against Peter's prostate and Peter let out a shriek at the sensation. Stark smiled and continued petting the spot, fucking his fingers into Peter faster.  
"You've never touched yourself there, have you?” Tony asked, placing a gentle kiss to one of the welts on Peter's inner thigh. Peter let out a squeak, unable to form coherent words. The burn began to give way to pleasure and Peter began panting and moaning loudly, pushing his hips down onto Stark's fingers, eyes closed tightly.  
"Good boy," Stark praised him. 

Peter whimpered, his release was so close but he couldn't reach it because of the restraint on his cock. He wondered if he'd be allowed to ask for relief or if he'd be punished. His moaning gave way to downright lewd shrieking and finally he couldn't hold back anymore.

"Please! Please Daddy, please can I cum?! Please Daddy, please please" he begged loudly, insistently. Stark laughed and took pity on the teen.  
"I _did_ say good boys get to cum, didn't I?" He smirked and took hold of the ring around Peter's throbbing cock, pulling it off quickly. The feeling of Stark's fingers brushing against his hard length and the ring being removed were enough to have Peter screaming out his pleasure, cumming so forcefully that stripes of white painted his chest all the way past his shoulders. Tears fell from his eyes as he sobbed, both from the torturous release and from the fact that his first time was going to be with his handsome, controlling captor. Tony kissed Peter's shaft as it twitched into softness and he commended him again for being so good. 

Tony paused for a moment, considering the glass toys he'd set aside earlier. He took the smallest from the nightstand and held it between the two of them, waiting for Peter to come back down from his orgasm. 

When Peter's sobbing quieted, he glanced again at Bucky, still standing obediently beside the bed, all but forgotten by Stark. The front of his pants had a large wet spot and his face was screwed up into something that Peter couldn't quite decipher, looking like he desperately needed a release of his own. He finally looked at Stark's dark, lust blown eyes and saw the toy that he was holding up between them. A spike of ice shot through his heart; he'd hoped they were finished. 

"Daddy?" He questioned nervously, voice sounding small. Tony kept looking at the glass egg.  
"Do you know what this is Peter?” he asked. Peter shook his head no.  
Stark met Peter's eyes, a warning in them. Peter gasped and corrected himself.  
"I'm mean, no Daddy! I'm sorry, Daddy" Stark's eyes softened again and he continued.  
"This is called a plug. You see, I slick this end up-" he put his finger at the top of the egg-"and I push it inside you."  
Peter's heart stuttered.  
"Then, after it's begun to stretch you out a little, I pull it out-" he reached for the next largest one-"and I replace it with this one." Peter let out a soft whine. "And finally," Stark continued, "I put this-" he grabs the largest one, around 5 inches long and thick-"inside you. Then, you're nice and opened for Daddy. And I can either leave it inside you and make you wear it all day-" Peter whined again-"where it can tease you and press against your prostate every time you move, or I can pull it out and fuck you raw."

Peter's eyes widened, trying to decide what would be worse. He wriggled his hips, nervous energy twitching through him.

Stark continued. "I was going to put this-" he brandished the smallest one again- "inside of you and stretch you out just a little, since it's your first time. But... Since you were oh so receptive to just my fingers, and you've got me so damn hard, I think I'm just going to fuck you now." 

Peter's eyes widened and his muscles tensed, body shaking. He whimpered softly, not daring to protest.  
Stark kneeled up, knees bracketing Peter's slender hips and began freeing himself of his jeans, wet spot starkly contrasting with the dark blue of his cotton boxer briefs. He stripped himself of all his clothing and knelt looking down at the lanky muscled teen below him. Peter marveled at the older man's body, how taught and lean his muscles were for his age. He must be close to 50 years old, but his abs arc gracefully into a v shape at his pelvis, where his large fat cock bobbed, leaking indecently. Peter's eyes grew wide, reminded of how much larger the older man is than himself and his skin began sweating cold, fearful of the man above him. Just his two thick fingers had made Peter feel like he was impossibly full, he was scared to think what that cock would do. He didn't have much time to imagine because Tony didn't waste any time liberally slicking his cock with lube, pushing a slicked digit back inside of Peter's stretched hole without warning. Peter cried out in surprise and Tony pushed his second finger in again. He pumped them in and out a few times, patience growing thin as he scissored inside of the boy. Unexpectedly, he thrust a third finger inside of Peter and he let out a pained wail.

"DADDY!” He cried, beginning to thrash beneath the man. Tony just pinned his hip to the mattress with his free hand and worked his fingers for another minute.

Finally, Tony slid his fingers out and immediately replaced them with the head of his leaking cock, pressing against Peter's slicked hole. Peter shuddered and gasped out "Wait! Please Daddy, wait!”

Stark paused and decided to humor the teen. "Yes, baby?” he said, voice thick with arousal and spiked with agitation.

Peter's heart skipped and he thanked his lucky stars that Stark hadn't disregarded him this time.  
"Daddy..." He continued. "It's my first time..." Tony growled low in his throat, smiling darkly.  
"Yes baby, it is," he replied.  
"Can I- I mean, can you..." He trailed off.  
Tony began to grow impatient. "What is it baby? I believe I've told you that I'm not a patient man."

Peter swallowed and took a deep breath. "Well... Can you please..." He glanced down at his bound wrists. "Please Daddy, I won't try to run again, I promise. But... It's my first time and... I don't want it to be... Like this," he lifted his bound wrists toward Tony, speaking quietly.  
"Ah." Stark said in reply, putting together what Peter was trying to say.  
"You're so shy, sweetheart," he grinned, "It's adorable. If you try to run I'll tie you up for a week."

He reached forward and pulled the knots from the rope, freeing Peter's wrists. The teen smiled brightly and breathlessly thanked Stark again and again as he moved to release his ankles from the spacer bar. He rubbed his sore wrists and stretched his shoulders happily. 

"Thank you, daddy" he said a final time, before Stark replaced his cock head at Peter's entrance and pushed past his stretched rim without warning. Peter gasped loudly and gingerly placed his hands on the man's shoulders. Tony slowly pushed into Peter, not stopping until he bottomed out. Peter gasped and moaned at the impossible stretch, fingers digging into Tony's muscles and his knees wrapping around the older man's thick waist. He attempted to use his thighs to hold Tony still but Tony was definitely the stronger of the two. He wasted no time using Peter to chase his own orgasm and began fucking into Peter's tight hole in earnest. Peter yelped at the feeling and tried to relax his muscles but Tony wasn't giving him any time to adjust. 

"Daddy!" He squeaked out, tears stinging his eyes. Tony leaned forward and lifted Peter's hips, deepening the penetration and Peter all but screamed as he began to slam into the teens' prostate rythmically. 

"You're doing amazing, baby, so tight. God you're so good, fuck" Tony rambled, getting closer to his own release. Peter would have asked his partner to stop had the situation been different but he knew better and did his best to stay still. Tears ran freely from his eyes and he turned his head away, in attempt to dissociate from the situation, but his eyes met with wide blue ones and he gasped, having forgotten about Bucky. 

Bucky looked almost tortured, silently watching the two on the bed. Peter slowly reached his hand out toward Bucky and he immediately leaned forward into his touch, needing. The older man's chest heaved and he panted lightly. 

Tony saw Peter beginning to undo Bucky's jeans and gave a particularly rough snap of his hips into Peter. Peter yelped again and turned his attention back to Tony's face. 

"God, you two are so perfect," he said, arousal heightened by the thought of his boys touching each other. His rythm was beginning to falter, strokes becoming shorter but deeper inside Peter. "Fuck," he exclaimed, "Bucky, clothes off," he ordered, brain starting to short circuit. "Lay on the bed," he instructed.

Bucky was in the bed in moments, watching as Tony fucked into Peter's lanky body with lust blown eyes. His cock throbbed needy and dripping in the air.

Tony lifted Peter's legs up over his shoulders and leaned his forehead down toward the teens' face. 

"Come for me, Peter," he ordered breathlessly, making sure to hit Peter's sore prostate with every brutal thrust. Peter didn't have a choice, body taking over at the sensations. He reached over and laced his fingers through Bucky's, needing someone to comfort him for his first time being fucked into a release. Someone that wasn't the cold man inside of him. He held tightly and Bucky held back, rubbing circles into his hand with his thumb.

Before long he was coming again with a shout, spilling onto his own stomach. Tony gripped his hips like handlebars and pulled Peter's body into each thrust, fast and hard. Peter screamed out again at the feeling of the man losing control and filling him to the brim. Hot come painted his insides, and Tony slowed his pace, enjoying the feeling of Peter's tight hole while he rode out his orgasm, come leaking from the boy. 

Peter let out a sob at the feeling, wishing it had happened differently. Finally, Tony stopped his assault and pulled out of Peter slowly, falling backward onto the bed. He gazed at the two men that he had stolen like exotic treasures. Peter laying fucked out and covered in come, stretched hole leaking with Tony and Bucky keening with need, ready for Tony to fill him, both beautiful. _His boys._

Bucky gave a small whimper, hoping that Stark would pity him and let him come too. He'd needed it so badly for so long already. Tony sighed, feeling sated and sleepy.

"Sweetheart, I think you're going to have to wait. I can't fuck again yet," he stated matter of factly. Bucky let out a sad and disappointed noise and his lip trembled but he didn't protest. Peter still gripped his hand tightly and Tony thought for a moment.

"What do you think, Petey Pie? Should Bucky get to come too?" Bucky's wide sky blue eyes met Peter's cinnamon orbs pleadingly.  
"Yes, Daddy. Of course," Peter replied to Tony and Bucky gave an appreciative squeeze to Peter's hand. Tony smirked.  
"Then he can fuck _you_?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony wants Bucky to fuck Peter and Bucky is a good boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing right where we left off with Bucky and Peter. Sorry it took me so long, I didn't have much time over the weekend so I've been chipping away at it at every free second. This chapter might be a little different than the way I wrote others but just in the way of... Idk, darkness to light ratio? I tried to make it as detailed as possible so I hope you enjoy!

Peter's heart thumped loudly and slowed painfully in his chest, icy fear racing up his spine. He slowly turned wide eyes toward Bucky, swallowing thickly. Bucky's own wide eyes returned his gaze with a look that was trapped between "oh shit" and "oh god, yes". Peter realized he'd been squeezing Bucky's hand so tightly that he'd lost feeling in his fingers and slowly unlaced them.

"Well, go ahead Buck. Peter said you should definitely get to come," Tony egged on, tone antagonizing.  
Peter's muscles went rigid and his heartbeat rushed loudly into his ears. Bucky slowly peeled himself from the sheets and rolled over to straddle Peter's slim, lanky body. His cheeks and the tips of his ears were twinged pink. Bucky's cock was slightly longer than Tony's but not as thick, curving gracefully upward and his abs were defined. Peter blushed as he really examined the man's body for the first time, noticing small scars and freckles dusted across his chest and thighs. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to prepare himself. 

Nervous blue eyes met brown and after a small moment, he took his cock in hand and lined up the head with Peter's already stretched hole. He didn't bother with the lube, using Tony's come and his own precome that leaked from his cock. Peter shuddered at the feeling and clutched at the bed beneath him. He was prepared for Bucky to lose control and fuck him wildly, steeling his body in preparation of an onslaught of pain.

In reality, Bucky gently pushed his over sensitized cock-head in past Peter's puffy, abused rim and stopped, allowing for Peter to adjust to the sensation as well as himself, before slowly pushing in just another inch, coming to a stop again. Peter let out another deep breath and felt himself relax against the burn just a little more before Bucky pressed slightly farther. After a few moments, Bucky bottomed out inside of Peter, dick gently brushing against his prostate already, with a low groan. Peter's flush deepened at the feeling and he felt a splash of warmth growing in his stomach. Bucky gently brought Peter's wrists up and laced his fingers through his own, pinning their hands by Peter's ears. He leaned forward until his plump red lips brushed against Peter's ear and he whispered, "I'm sorry, Peter."

Peter felt his blush grow from the roots of his hair all the way down to his chest and he relished in the sincerity of the man's voice, able to completely relax at the sweet timbre. Slowly, Bucky began to move inside of Peter, pulling out almost all the way and slowly pressing back in to the hilt a few times, letting out his own long groaning sigh of pleasure. Peter pulled his feet up toward his body, allowing Bucky as much access as possible, bracketing his hips with his knobby knees and lifted his own hips slightly. It was so much better than Tony's fast and forceful fuck already and he closed his eyes to bask in the feeling. 

The blood rushing in his ears sounded like waves and he saw gold and blue behind his eyelids, like a sun setting on a beach. He imagined slow sex with this handsome older man on the sand and let out a moan of pleasure, pressing down into Bucky's next thrusts. They began to fall into a rhythm, slow and languid, drawing pleasure from each other, soft noises tumbling from lips. Peter pretended they were rocking in time with the ocean waves in his mind and he rolled in waves of endorphins, body tingling.

Bucky pressed their bodies together and gently pushed against Peter's pleasure spot, trapping Peter's half hard cock between them. Soft little breathy noises fell from Bucky's mouth, just centimeters away from Peter's ear still, and it brought a small smile to the teens' face. Bucky started to speed up his pace, but not enough to be uncomfortable to Peter, who started letting out his own little broken moans, eyes still pressed shut. Bucky began chanting whispers into his ear with each thrust, "thank you Peter, thank you, thank you-" and Peter timidly opened his eyes to look at the man's face. 

A bead of sweat ran down Bucky's temple at the effort of holding back his own much needed release in attempt to give Peter pleasure as well, and his strong muscled chest was tinged red. His eyes were soft and unfocused and his plush lips formed praises that were just whispers lost amongst shallow panting.  
Peter leaned up and pressed a wet, open mouthed kiss to Bucky's throat and then threw his head back in pleasure, letting out a deep groan as Bucky brushed against his prostate once again.

"Is it good Peter?" He whispered to the boy. Peter unlaced their fingers and gripped Bucky's shoulders from under his arms, fingers pressing into his soft, scarred skin as he felt a rush of pleasure at Bucky's words. "Yes Bucky, god yes, it's so good. Thank you-" he started whispering his own praises in return. 

Bucky's pace heightened again and he pressed deeper into Peter, eliciting a louder moan from his lips.  
"Call me James," he whispered back, eyes squeezing shut. Peter delighted in their quiet pleasure, thinking it was so much like how he'd imagined intimacy to be and he breathily moaned the man's name into his ear.  
James's hips began to stutter and his rhythm faltered, beginning to lose control of himself. He laced his fingers into Peter's soft curls gently, the opposite of Stark's iron fingers gripping and yanking, and goosebumps bloomed over Peter's skin.

"I can't go much longer," James softly murmured, "can you come?"  
A shudder of contentment rushed through Peter like an electrical charge and he nodded in affirmation. "I think I can," he quietly answered. He wrapped his legs around James' waist and pulled him in deep, meeting each of the man's thrusts with his own urgency. James wrapped his left arm underneath of Peter's lower back and gently lifted his hips up to allow himself full access to Peters prostate and pressed himself fully inside the teen, rocking Peter's hips up and down so that the only sensation Peter felt was his prostate being rubbed against incessantly. 

Peter let out a whine, quickly cut off by a yelp and then he was coming again, hot and sticky all over both of them. His orgasm was quick, being his third one in such a short time, but it was so much better and more powerful than the first two.

James followed immediately behind, filling Peter's hole with what felt like gallons of hot, lustful come with a strangled whine of his own. Peter watched James' face while he came, eyes closed and mouth opened in a graceful 'O', face and chest flushed and sweat dripping from his temples and collar bones. His fingers gripped Peter's hips tightly and he rode out his orgasm inside Peter's tight wet heat. Peter couldn't help but think he looked beautiful like that, his own pupils blown and breaths coming short and heavy. 

James opened his eyes slowly as he recovered and his beautiful blue eyes were almost swallowed by his black, blown pupils, red lips swollen. A small smile crossed his lips and his face flushed pink, ducking his head in a manner that looked bashful. Peter didn't think as he reached forward and wrapped his fingers around the back of James's neck and pulled him down again. He pressed his lips against James' plush ruby ones and kissed him deeply.

They were interrupted a moment later when Tony loudly cleared his throat. They both jumped, having been able to forget about him being there with them, watching. 

"Buck, go get in the shower," he ordered quietly.  
James' face fell like a shadow drowning out the light and he quickly pulled his soft cock out of Peter, making haste to follow the command. "Yes, Daddy," he responded in a strangled sounding voice. He was still just inches from Peter's face and he whispered a thank you to Peter again before he climbed from the bed and was gone.

Peter felt his body fill with trepidation again and he squirmed under the oldest man's scrutiny, trying his best to hold still. "That was amazing," Tony said to the boy, not moving from where he still sprawled at the end of the bed.  
"You enjoyed that." It wasn't a question. Peter flushed again.  
"Y-yes Daddy," he replied, just above a whisper. Tony smirked.  
" _God,_ that was amazing to watch," he pressed on. "I don't think I could have chosen two more perfect little cock-hungry sluts to be mine," he preened. Peter turned his face away and waited for Tony to continue. They were silent for a moment before Tony went on. 

"I'm glad you enjoyed Bucky's cock so much, cupcake. But you're not to enjoy it at any time unless I explicitly say so. And you're never to touch yourself without my permission. Is that understood?” he said, voice flat. Peter recognized the tone and answered immediately, "yes Daddy, I'll follow the rules."

"Good boy," Tony praised, " now go join Buck in the shower and clean yourself up. You'll learn the rules as they come along." Peter gratefully climbed from the bed, come running down his thighs, and followed where James had exited the room to join him.

The bathroom was attached to the bedroom and it was huge. The whole far side of the wall was an open shower with multiple shower heads lining the perimeter and walls and floors that looked like they were made of stone. Peter had never seen something so lavish and chose to stand beneath the shower head closest to where James stood. He turned on the hot water and winced at the burning sensation it caused on his nearly forgotten welts and bruises.

They silently made eye contact with each other and smiled shyly. Peter went about scrubbing the sweat and come from his body and watched as Bucky was doing the same. They lazily watched each other, barely trying to hide their open gazes, and Peter thought he might be able to find _some_ kind of silver lining to being here. 

Suddenly, a loud growl rumbled from Peter's stomach and his face went red with embarrassment. It had to be almost two in the afternoon and he hadn't eaten since the day before, almost 24 hours prior. James finished his shower and turned off the water above him, walking over to a stack of plush red towels and Peter quickly followed suit, grabbing his own towel. His stomach rumbled again and he tried to suppress the sound with his towel, attempting to hide his blush under his messy wet curls. James chuckled lightly and beckoned for Peter to follow him back to the bedroom. 

Tony was gone. James went to a small closet opposite from the large one Tony had been in earlier and rummaged through some clothes. He handed a small stack to Peter and grabbed some for himself. James was just an inch shorter than Peter, so his clothes fit perfectly. 

James grabbed Peter's hand when they finished dressing and gently pulled him along to the kitchen. He seated him on a stool at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. Peter glanced around, still not seeing Tony.  
"Where's Mr Stark?" he asked quietly.  
"Probably in the workshop," James answered, pulling ingredients from the refrigerator and setting about to make a late breakfast.

A short while later they sat together at the bar and ate. James had made french toast, hash browns, bacon and scrambled eggs, and poured orange juice. Peter could barely contain himself. Turned out James was a great cook. 

"This is so great!" He exclaimed through a mouth full of french toast. James just smiled.  
"My aunt May _loves_ french toast!" He continued, then stopped with a gasp. "Oh my god!" He shrieked, "I never texted May! What do I do?!" He looked exasperatedly at James, panic written all over his face.  
"She told me to text her if I left the house! She's probably already tried getting ahold of me, what if she's panicking, what if she calls the police?! Wait, would it be good if she called the police? What if she came home from work early and I wasn't there?!-"  
James grabbed Peter's shoulders to try to stop his meltdown and bring Peter back to the present.  
"Tony already has your phone, he took it when he knocked you out earlier," Peter cringed as he said it. "You're going to have to explain to him and see if he'll give your phone to you for a bit. That's the only option you've got. There are no other ways to contact anyone without him knowing. And I really, _really_ would not suggest trying to call for help or sending out some kind of code word or anything else like that," he took his hands from Peter's shoulders and placed them in his own lap.  
"It'll definitely hurt worse than this morning," he added quietly, turning to lift his coffee mug to his lips. 

A chill ran down Peter's spine at the thought of the punishment Tony had given him and he shuddered at the thought of something being worse. He glanced over at James and sadly wondered what kind of things he'd been through already. 

"...Ok," Peter responded slowly, not much calmer than before.  
"How long have you been here?" He questioned quietly.  
James' face went blank as he pondered the question.  
"Hmm. I think... Maybe, thirteen years?”  
Peter's jaw dropped in disbelief.  
"Thirteen _YEARS?!_ How old _are_ you?! ...How old were you when he... _took_ you?" He whispered the last question.  
James' lips naturally curved downward at the corners and Peter noticed them twitch just slightly at the questions.

After a moment of silence, James answered, "I don't really think about it much anymore. I was 19 when I came here the first time. I'm... Thirty-two since March. Been here a while. My family probably thinks I'm dead."  
The nonchalance in James' voice unnerved Peter.

"How old are _you?_ " he returned, stabbing a forkful of eggs and sticking it in his mouth, chewing thoughtfully.

Peter's cheeks twinged pink as he answered quietly, "I'm seventeen."  
James' eyes widened and he let out a low whistle. "Wow, he's _really_ going young now." Peter just shrugged, "technically, you are too." Then his face screwed up quizzically,  
"have there been many others?” He took a small bite of bacon.  
James' nodded slightly, "a few, I supposed. Young guys trying to impress and swindle a few bucks out of him. They let him do whatever he wants as long as he throws enough money at them. They always get to go home though."  
Peter took a few more bites silently, digesting his thoughts as well as his food.

"So..." He started, "why did he choose us? I mean, why.... Why can't _we_ go home?" James' sad blue eyes met Peter's hopeful cinnamon ones and they just looked at each other for a moment. Finally, James spoke. "Honestly, I don't know. He thinks we're.... Beautiful or something. And were smart. He likes that. I don't know what made him want us though, really. Power, mostly. Control maybe." They sat in silence together for a moment. 

Peter looked at James' pouty red lips and sighed. Something about the man made him feel safe, and not so alone. He unconsciously leaned forward, lips parting as he looked at James' mouth. James turned his head slightly toward Peter and saw the intent on his face.  
"Peter-" he started, voice nervous. Peter cut off his protest and closed the distance between them, pressing their lips together. James' body tensed and he didn't immediately respond to the youngers' kiss. Peter licked his tongue against James' plush lips, silently asking for access. After a moment, James tentatively kissed him back, slowly and carefully. 

Just as he was about to give in fully to the kiss, the elevator behind them dinged and the doors started to slowly open. James jumped backward off his stool and nearly tripped over himself, rushing to make himself look busy in the kitchen. Peter panicked and nearly knocked his plate off the counter in front of him, trying to grab for his fork. Tony stepped out of the elevator and paused, suspicious of the two before him. 

"Boys..." he greeted warily. 

"Daddy! I was just making some breakfast!" James said as he hastily filled a plate. He rushed to set it on the end of the bar in front of an empty stool, nervous smile pasted on his face.  
"...Thank you, Bucky," he said slowly, walking over to the stool without sitting. He examined Peter at the other end of the bar, putting a too large bite into his mouth and the half empty plate that clearly was Bucky's that rested just a little too near Peter's, between them. He reached over and pulled the unattended plate away from Peter and then slid the stool farther away as well. He looked suspiciously from Peter to Bucky and back again, noting the nervous energies and the charged silence.

"I'm not sure what you boys are up to in here but I think it had best stop before I put a stop to it," he stated flatly. Bucky fidgeted nervously and Peter swallowed loudly. 

"Actually!- Uh, um-" Peter blurted-"I was just asking about... Texting my aunt. Uh, she asked me to text her if I left the apartment and I never did. I-I don't want her to worry."

Tony's dark chocolate eyes lingered on Peter for a moment as if trying to read lies on his face. Finally, he answered Peter.  
"I already text her. She thought I was you. I told her you were invited for a science weekend and she said it was fine. She was upset you didn't tell her that you were leaving. She doesn't expect you home until after school Monday."

Peter's heart stopped and he could feel his eyes go wide, welling with tears. His face went pale and his body started to shake.  
" _Monday?_ " he breathed out, lip quivering. Tony took a strip of bacon from the plate Bucky had offered and took a bite, chewing unconcernedly.  
"Mmhmm. I haven't decided if you're actually going to be attending on Monday or not tho. But that gives me the rest of today at least and tomorrow to play with you." Tony winked at Peter.  
He turned to Bucky. "I'm going to hit the shower, I'm all sweaty and greasy from the workshop. Save this for me," he said pointing to the plate. He walked past Peter and clapped his hand on his shoulder, stopping to speak low in his ear.  
"I have so many fun things planned for you," he wetly kissed the back of Peter's neck and then walked down the hallway to the shower.

Once he was out of earshot, Bucky looked at Peter with wide eyes. " _DON'T. KISS ME._ " he hissed, voice fearful. "You have no idea what he'd do to us if he found out, and _especially me!_ I've been through that before, I don't want to do it again! _PLEASE,_ for _both_ our sakes, keep your hands- and your _lips_ \- to yourself!” he panted.

Peter finally couldn't hold back the tears that were building up in his eyes and they rolled slowly down his cheeks.  
"I'm sorry, James," he whispered back, "I was just so excited that maybe I wasn't alone here," he looked him in the eye as he said it. James let out an exasperated sigh and his fearful look melted into one of pity and sadness.  
"You're _not_ alone Peter, we're both trapped here, but we have to be safe! He _will HURT us._ " he met Peter's gaze head on. Peter nodded his head and sniffled, knowing James was right.  
"I just got carried away," Peter responded, "it won't happen again." James nodded in return.

"Listen Peter, if things were different, and if you were... Just a little older... I would be all over you-" Peter blushed, hint of a smile tugging at his lips-"but... We're here. And that's not going to change."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek*
> 
> Ok, thoughts? Suggestions? Anything confusing? Do you hate me more or less now? Was that scene totally great or what? Did the dissociation part from Peter read well? Does cornbread blow sideways in the winter? Where's my cat? Is Bucky really an inch shorter than Peter?!  
> Ok, the answer to that is yes, he's 5'10" after the syrum(5'7" before) and Peter is 5'11", wow! I just wanted to add that little detail because I thought it made Bucky look adorably fun sized. Please leave comments! I die inside without them!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky reminisces and Peter learns a few more rules.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a while to write because it's hard to get into such a dark mindset. I spend a lot of time rereading and correcting spelling and grammar mistakes too because I'm a bit of a perfectionist. I can't tell you how many times a looked up synonyms on Google lol. It's definitely been fun though and I think it turned out pretty well. I suppose you'll have to be the judge of that?

_Bucky had showed up for an internship bright eyed and fresh faced, nervous but excited. He'd met with Mr. Tony Stark and had agreed to stay to work as a secretary and to be an assistant in the lab without much persuasion. He'd been excited because things were finally looking up. He'd be able to provide for himself and he was more than ready for that at nineteen._  
_He'd eagerly accepted Stark's proposition for being available at any time for anything, taking a room in the penthouse. When Stark had asked him to prove how much he'd wanted the position, he'd barely hesitated to drop to his knees before the man. He'd swallowed down the man's impressive length with hardly a second thought and proved his experience to him.  
It wasn't long after that that Tony asked him to spread his legs for him, and Bucky happily did that too. But soon, Bucky began to regret agreeing to Stark's conditions. He quickly became controlling and started showing a sadistic side, not allowing Bucky to leave or contact his family members and finding pleasure in causing Bucky pain and distress._

_Stark had called Bucky down to the lab one day and told him he needed help relieving stress while he worked on blue prints for some new machine he was building. He'd shoved Bucky to his knees and pushed him under his desk, forcing Bucky to blow him while he worked. Bucky might not have minded so much but he kept lifting his hips and pinning Bucky painfully, smacking the back of his head on the bottom of the desk and trapping him with his throat around Stark's cock. After a fourth, and particularly rough bash to the head, Stark had finally released him back to the floor and Bucky had shoved Stark's chair backward and pulled himself from under the desk, indignantly._

_"That really hurts Mr Stark, you're going to break my jaw!" He'd yelled, voice pitching in anger, fists clenched at his sides.  
Stark had leapt from the chair, shocked at the teens' nerve and had gripped him by the throat tightly, pulling his face up, inches away from his own. Stark was 6'1, so Bucky's 5'9 frame was barely still touching the floor._

_"Don't you ever talk to me like that, you petulant little brat," he'd spat down at him. Stark had always been solid, thick compared to Bucky's lanky, twinky body._  
_"You're mine. You take what I give you and you say thank you."  
Stark had dropped Bucky back to his feet and sent him to his room. Bucky complied, stunned and unsure how to react with what had happened, turning on shaky legs back to the elevator._

_A few hours after that, Stark had already gotten through most of a bottle of whisky and had entered Bucky's room, finding him asleep on the bed wearing just a long sleeved gray shirt and colorful briefs. He'd slowly removed the briefs from his hips and pulled them off the skinny teen, then straddled his skinny hips, pressing himself inside of Bucky.  
The teen had woken with a yelp and tried to push Stark off of him but he'd wrapped his bicep around Bucky's throat and pinned him with his weight to the bed. He'd slammed his hips into Bucky hard and fast, growling out "mine, my pretty boy, pretty little slut, mine-" with each thrust. Bucky tried to cry out but his throat was constricted with Stark's right arm and his left hand clamped over Bucky's mouth, suppressing his cries and making it hard to even breathe._

_By the end of the first month of being there, Bucky had experienced being woken in the middle of the night to be used, being hit with a belt for disobedience, having his hair ripped from his head, being thrown, shoved, tripped and tossed to the ground. He'd had food withheld, been forced to stay awake for extended periods of time to service Mr Stark and to his extreme horror, Stark had actually invited other men to use Bucky's young body and mouth for their pleasure as well._

_One particular night, Stark had invited another sadistic man to join him for the evening. They'd had dinner together, laughing and enjoying wine while Bucky stood by obedient and naked, hands tied behind his back. He'd shivered and whimpered but the two men just ignored him, until it was time for the main event; Bucky._

_The nameless man had taken hold of Bucky and lead him by the arm to Stark's large room. He'd sat on a lavish chair and stood Bucky before him, facing away from him. His cold calloused fingers had roamed his body, pinching and groping wherever they pleased. Stark had sat opposite them on the end of the bed with a glass of wine and had watched, smiling. Bucky had learned by now not to protest if he didn't want to be hit for it. Stark liked that the teen learned quickly._

_The man hadn't given any warning when he'd placed two of his cold fingers at Bucky's entrance and pressed them both past his tight ring of muscle, quickly followed by a third. Bucky let out a yelp and did his best to hold still but the man had been brutally rough, forcing Bucky off his balance while he stretched and finger fucked him.  
He'd tried to hold back his choked whimpers but he barely could. Finally, the man had been satisfied with how Bucky's entrance stretched and he pulled him down onto his waiting, hard cock. Thankfully he'd opted to use lube. He'd forced Bucky's hips wide and made him ride him. It was difficult at first because his hands were still tied behind his back and his feet could barely find purchase on the floor but he obeyed to avoid punishment. After a few minutes of riding the man, Stark had risen from his watchful perch and drained his wine glass, setting the flute aside. He unzipped the front of his pants and grabbed Bucky's hair, pulling his head down to feed him his cock. Bucky was practically bent in half, forced to take both the men at the same time. He'd whimpered around Stark's cock, trying to please both of them but after a few moments, the nameless man had suggested they move to the huge bed. It had been red back then too._

_They'd lifted Bucky's lanky body onto the mattress and the nameless man had placed Bucky into the same position as before; laying on top and fucking him from behind._  
_This time however, Stark had climbed on top of Bucky and lined his cock-head up along side the other mans'. Bucky had gasped,_  
_"Wait, please Mr Stark, I can't take it! Please, it's too much!” he'd said, eyes filled with fear and tears. Stark had chuckled low in his chest. He was already drunk so he couldn't focus on very much and didn't say anything. He'd grabbed for a bottle of lube that sat nearby and slicked his own cock as well as pressing two slicked fingers inside of Bucky while the other man still fucked him. Bucky sucked in a sharp breath and whimpered at the painful sensation._  
_Stark and the strange man moaned together at how tight Bucky felt, then Stark had pulled his fingers from Bucky and once again lined up his cock-head. The other man stopped to allow him entrance and he'd slowly pushed inside of Bucky._  
Bucky had cried out, pleading and begging for them to stop. He thought he would explode before the two men had finished. The two larger men held him pinned between them, stretching him open wider than he thought he could go, one thrusting while the other pulled out, keeping Bucky so overstimulated he thought he might pass out.  
They both kept up a fast pace, alcohol inhibiting their ability to finally come. Bucky felt like it was an eternity before they finished and they'd both come inside of Bucky when they finally did. 

_Stark pulled out and lay on the bed beside the two and the man underneath Bucky had shoved him off, onto the bed. They'd passed out almost immediately and Bucky had slowly snuck away to the shower that attached to his own bedroom. He'd sat huddled on the floor with the hot water rushing over him and cried until the water ran cold. Then he'd climbed into his own bed and fallen into a fitful sleep._

_A few weeks had passed and Bucky was on his way to the lobby. His breathing was fast and shallow and his clothes were damp with sweat. He'd taken the elevator from Tony's penthouse halfway down, then found the nearest stairwell and began to run the rest of the way. He'd almost made it all the way to the main floor. He just had to make it to the street and he'd be safe._

_His feet were bare, he didn't have time to find his shoes, and he wondered if there was much snow on the ground._

_Stark had been playing with him that day, stretching him open with different toys and putting things inside him at random times unexpectedly and whipping him with leather tools. The depraved man had made him fuck himself on a dildo while Stark watched, touching himself, and tied his hands behind his back and forced him to eat scraps from the floor.  
He'd humiliated, hurt and insulted him._

_He'd also gotten progressively more drunk as the evening wore on until he'd finally passed out in the living room in the early evening._

_Bucky had been there for about two months at this point and this was the first time he'd seen a real opportunity to run._

_He'd finally reached the main floor and could see the large glass doors just yards away, pointing out onto the darkening winter street. He was out of breath and his lungs burned but he wasn't stopping, not when he was so close. He made a break for the doors through the large open lobby and his bare feet slapped loudly on the hard floor. He'd made it halfway through the lobby, but from the corner of his eye he spotted movement and turned his head. His heart pumped with icy fear when he saw Stark running toward him from the opposite end of the lobby._

_Bucky didn't know when Stark had woken up and given chase but he'd looked too long at Stark's furious face and had lost his footing, careening to the cold hard floor. He'd managed to leap back up and run again but by then, Stark had closed the gap between them. Bucky's fingertips had wrapped around the cold metal handle of the door and he thought that he just might make it._

_But Stark had grabbed a fistful of Bucky's hair and ripped him backward onto the floor again. He'd leapt on top of Bucky, straddling his chest and trying to pin his arms down. Bucky had fought back fiercely and thrashed wildly, so close to the exit, trying to pull himself from the larger man's clutches. He'd shrieked and cried out, trying so hard to avoid being pinned down, flailing and reaching for the door. Stark's fist had coiled back and landed hard against Bucky's temple, stopping his struggle entirely._

_He remembered being dragged back through the lobby and thrown into the elevator. Stark had quietly fumed, looming over him the whole way back to the top._

_When they'd reached the top floor, Tony had gripped Bucky's ankles and dragged him into the middle of the living room floor. Bucky had tried to roll over then to groggily lift himself up but Tony's iron fingers had grabbed Bucky, one hand in his hair and the other on the back of his shirt, and yanked him up onto the couch.  
He'd straddled him again and gripped his throat tightly, squeezing as hard as he could. Bucky wheezed and tears had rolled from the corners of his eyes. His arms hung limp at his sides. Stark had slapped him until he could taste blood and continued to choke him until he almost passed out. He'd finally released his hold just as Bucky had been about to lose conciousness and hissed in his ear, "you're going to learn about punishment."_

_Bucky had then been gripped by his hair again and steered toward Stark's bedroom. Stark had stripped him of his clothing and tied his wrists together with rope, securing them to a hook that jutted from the wall above him. His bare back was faced out toward the room, face pressed against the wall, where blood smeared wherever he touched. Stark had forced a rubber plug inside of Bucky coldly and without lube and then retrieved a wooden paddle with holes in it from his closet. He'd beaten Bucky until he couldn't scream anymore, and then had removed the plug and punish-fucked him right up against the wall._

_Bucky had faded in and out of consciousness during his punishment, blacking out when it got too bad for his mind and body to handle._

_He didn't remember how but they'd ended up in the middle of Stark's bed, the larger man pressing his weight into Bucky's ribs, making it hard for his lungs to expand. He'd gripped Bucky's left hand and forced his fingers open.  
"This is the last time you try to run away from me, baby boy," he'd seethed venomously. He took hold of his ring finger and looked Bucky in the eye as he callously snapped it like it was a carrot stick. Bucky let out a shriek that rattled the walls and Stark cut it off with his hand over his mouth, leaning closer to Bucky's ear. "I'll break one every time you even think about leaving," he'd warned. Bucky had wailed and sobbed for the rest of the night, as Stark did nothing to alleviate the pain or to correct the joint._

_The rest of that week had been the hardest week that Bucky had ever experienced in the tower. Stark didn't allow him to eat anything more than scraps thrown to the floor, or to sleep for more than minutes at a time, keeping him tied up in a dark room alone. The only contact Bucky had was when Stark entered the dark room and used Bucky for his own pleasure, uncaring and insensitively, or to thrash him with some tool or weapon of pain. He'd held nothing back, angry at Bucky that he'd been forced to make his perfect face unperfected. He'd marked Bucky with a permanent scar at his right side, an almost perfectly round row of teeth marks that would stay with him forever._

_When Stark finally released Bucky from his cold prison at the end of the week, he'd snapped his finger back to the correct angle without warning, ignoring his screams of pain, and roughly washed the blood, sweat and come from his body in the shower, then led him to the kitchen where he forced him to eat a luke warm bowl of mush, probably oatmeal, and then finally, FINALLY, Bucky was allowed to sleep. He'd slept for almost two days straight, only waking because Stark had decided he didn't want to wait for him any longer. That night, Tony had roughly fucked him with repeated warnings about trying to leave again. Bucky had cried silently, but offered no resistance. Stark had been content that he'd broken Bucky's will for freedom. Bucky's finger had healed at a strange angle, just enough that you didn't notice unless you looked hard but enough that Bucky remembered every day._

Peter watched Bucky from where he stood clearing the breakfast bar. The older man had gotten lost in his thoughts, staring absently at his left hand while washing the dishes. He'd been staring for a while and Peter watched silently, wondering what the man was thinking about.  
A silent tear slipped from his eye and he came back to the present with a deep sigh. He cleared his throat and resumed washing dishes. Peter quietly brought the plates and utensils that had been on the bar without interrupting the man's thoughts. 

Tony reappeared from his shower, freshly washed and dressed and Bucky jumped when he noticed the man, quickly pulling his hands from the soapy water and hiding them behind his back before he could stop himself.  
Tony smirked and stood near Bucky, pouring himself a cup of coffee.  
"Reminiscing, are we?" He asked nonchalantly, taking a sip. Bucky's face had twinged pink and he'd turned his attention back to finishing the dishes. Stark reached over and squeezed his ass, caressing in a way that Peter might have thought was almost tender, if he didn't know better. Tony had leaned toward James' ear and whispered just barely loud enough for Peter to hear, "My first baby boy. Such a _good boy_ now, huh?" He'd winked and lightly kissed James' temple, then turned a lascivious grin on Peter. Peter's blood chilled at the look and his muscles reflexively tensed but he didn't move from Stark's gaze.

Tony slowly stalked over to where Peter stood and took a slow sip of his coffee, examining the teens' face.  
"Such pretty boys I have," he hummed appreciatively. He reached forward and ran his thumb along Peter's bottom lip, hooking it into his mouth. Peter opened his lips obediently and ran his tongue across it, not meeting the older man's eyes. Tony pushed harder into Peter's mouth, pressing down on his tongue until Peter softly gagged, forced to close his lips around the man's thick digit. Tony started sliding his thumb in and out of Peter's lips, forcing him to suck on it. Peter's face flushed but he took the treatment obediently. Tony slowly pulled his thumb from Peter's lips and replaced it with his first two fingers, setting his mug of coffee down on the bar next to him and taking a step closer to the teen. Peter couldn't help himself when he took a small step away from the man. Tony gripped Peter's waist and yanked him back toward him, pulling their bodies together. Peter's blood squirmed inside of him but he closed his eyes and willed himself to stand still.  
Tony began fucking Peter's mouth with his fingers, pressing them deep into his throat. Peter gagged louder and a few tears streamed from his eyes but he remained compliant. Tony reached behind him and began caressing Peter's ass the way he'd just done to James, running his fingers along the seam of his jeans, pressing against it.  
"I'm so glad you were a virgin, Petey. That means there are _so many_ things I can show you," he continued pressing his fingers against the teens' throat, sliding it across his tongue. 

He suddenly pulled his fingers from Peter's mouth, pressing his lips against Peter's and thrusting his tongue inside in a dirty, sloppy kiss. Peter squeezed his eyes shut tighter and resisted the urge to shove away from the older man. Tony ground his hard cock against Peter's body, showing him his desire for the teen. He pulled the hand on his ass up above his waist band and thrust it inside of Peter's boxers, fingers reaching for Peter's entrance.  
Peter couldn't help his reaction when he pulled his head back and thrust his own hips forward, to move away from the probing fingers that seeked to breach him. Stark slapped Peter's face but his expression didn't change, like he'd expected the reaction. He just continued pressing against Peter's entrance. He didn't push past the muscle, just circled his finger around, massaging it, watching Peter's face and how hard he fought to be still. To be good. 

"Be a good boy, Peter," he goaded in a quiet voice that was meant to sound soothing. Peter whimpered and chanced a glance at James. He looked like he was fighting his own urges, torn between lust and fear. His blue eyes were swallowed by his black pupils, looking completely lust blown. Tony noticed Peter's eyes and followed his gaze. 

"Wanna know why Bucky is such a good boy?" Tony murmured into Peter's ear. "It's because I taught him to be. Like a puppy. I _trained_ him. See how hard his cock is? He knows that when Daddy wants a little lovin', he had best be ready immediately. Can you do that for me Peter?" Tony sloppily licked Peter's face with a broad tongue from his jaw to his temple and reached his free hand down to grab the crotch of his pants. He felt Peter's half hard cock and began rubbing circles into him with his palm. Peter shuddered and his face flushed again.  
"Come on Peter, be ready for Daddy," Tony cooed, beginning to rub harder. Peter whimpered. Stark then pulled both his hands from Peter's pants and began to remove the teens' clothing. Goose bumps bloomed over Peter's body and he felt his cock steadily filling with blood, despite his desperation to crawl from his skin. When Stark had gotten him naked, he smiled approvingly at the boys mostly hard erection.  
"Good boy Peter, you're learning already," he praised. Peter squirmed under his scrutiny and struggled to keep his hands at his sides.  
Tony abruptly spun him around and pushed him to lean over the island. He knelt down behind the boy and pulled his cheeks apart with his thumbs, eagerly licking and sucking at his tight little pink muscle without preamble. He moaned and slurped at it, fully enjoying the teens' soft warm flesh under his experienced tongue and the sounds the boy couldn't contain.  
Peter moaned without abandon, giving in to the pleasures being offered him. He realized that he'd been pointed directly at Bucky's lustful face and flushed a little at what he must look like, coming apart at the seams.  
The tip of Tony's tongue began to breach Peter and he felt his face and chest flush at the pleasure of the sensation of his entrance stretching around it. His cock started leaking onto the floor and he started pushing back gently against Mr Stark's tongue, seeking more pleasure.  
Tony moaned and gripped his full ass cheeks harder between his palms, using Peter's hips to grind back on his tongue.  
Peter began to ride Tony's face more vigorously as he started losing control of himself but before he could really get into it, Stark stilled his hips abruptly and stood up, sliding his thick body against Peter's lanky twink body.  
"God, you're so good for me Peter. Such a natural little slut, aren't you? Look at this little cock-" he wrapped his fingers around Peter's length, almost too hard and Peter gasped at the touch-"so hard for Daddy. What a good little boy," he crooned praises into Peter's ear, free hand roaming over his chest, hips and legs. Peter closed his eyes and turned off his mind, just letting himself enjoy the sensation of touch and he began panting with need. Stark stroked his cock and licked and sucked at his neck and shoulder, nibbling at the skin.  
"Such a pretty little thing, angel fish-" he abruptly pulled away from Peter and began to remove his own clothes-"Buck, get naked," he ordered in a quiet voice. Bucky immediately did as he was told and awaited further instruction. Tony opened a drawer under the island countertop and retrieved a bottle of lube, pouring it down Peter's ass, dribbling it onto his hole. Peter gasped at the cold sensation and his muscles twitched. Tony quickly slid two fingers through the sticky trail and pressed inside of Peter without warning. Peter cried out and gripped the countertop hard, trying to remain as still as possible. Tony fucked Peter on two fingers hard deep and fast for just a few moments before he quickly pressed his cock head inside in place of them. Peter let out a shriek and his body trembled but he steadied his breathing and concentrated on relaxing his body, a few beads of sweat dripping from his brow. Tony made a finger motion for Bucky to join them on the other side of the island and Bucky was next to Peter in an instant. Tony fucked into Peter hard and fast for a few minutes while he sloppily kissed Bucky, sticking his tongue out for Bucky to lick and suck at. Peter glanced at James with glazed eyes and reached out to caress his abs and ribs gently. James leaned into the touch and Tony grinned at the two of them.  
"Damn, you two are fucking perfect," he growled, still pounding Peter into the island.  
He pulled out of Peter just as quickly as he'd pushed into him and spun Bucky around, pushing himself inside of the man's unprepared entrance. Bucky let out a long high pitched whine as he tried to get used to the unexpected stretch. Tony took Bucky's hand and placed it on Peter's ass, guiding his long fingers inside of Peter's lubed hole and then reached up to grasp Peter firmly by the throat.  
Peter couldn't hide the panic in his eyes at the feeling as Tony's thumb pressed firmly into his pulse point.  
"Now sweetheart, what should you say to Daddy when he gives you such a nice treat?" Peter's lips quivered and his eyes were wide with fear.  
"Uh, th-th-thank you daddy?!” he yelped out. Tony released him and gave him a pat on his cheek.  
"What a good boy! You're learning so fast, Daddy is so proud!” he then grabbed for the lube and poured it over his own cock before he pushed into Bucky again and Bucky sighed in relief at the feeling. He fucked into Bucky fast and hard, guiding the younger man's fingers to fuck Peter while he did so, enjoying the young teens' moans of pleasure. He smiled as he looked down at his boys' gorgeous asses, presented and ready for him. 

"Fuck" he breathed out as he gave Peter's ass a hard slap. The boy jumped and turned his big brown eyes on him and Stark grinned wider. He pulled Peter's cheeks apart for a better look at Bucky's long fingers skillfully pleasing the young boy and decided it was time to switch back again.  
He pulled his cock from Bucky's tight warmth and pulled his fingers from Peter, gripping Peter's boney hips and bracing him, then he pushed back in, all the way to the hilt in one thrust. Peter cried out as he slammed into his prostate and began relentlessly pounding into him again.  
"Touch Bucky's cock, baby," he commanded, growling low into Peter's ear.  
Peter could barely hold himself together and he reached out with shaking hands to caress Bucky.  
James gently wrapped his larger hand around Peter's delicate one and guided his strokes, moaning low in pleasure.  
"Thank you Daddy," Bucky breathed out, voice thick with arousal. Tony reached for his face and pulled him into a sloppy kiss again, pressing Peter's ribs harder into the island as he did.  
After a moment, Tony's hand dropped from Bucky's face and began to fill his fucked opened hole, eliciting a groan of pleasure from the man.

The three stayed like that, moaning and dripping on the kitchen floor for a while, enjoying each other. Not long after, Tony got tired of standing and decided to move them to another room.  
He lead them down the hallway, past Bucky and his own bedrooms to another room. It was a small bedroom with a small, single bed in it and not much else. The bed had a low, black wooden headboard on the end, and he guided Peter to lie over top of the board, pillow under his chest, ass sticking out. He then pulled some white nylon ropes from hiding under the bed and used them to tie his feet apart, hands behind his back.  
"Daddy?!” Peter questioned frightfully. His welts from that morning still throbbed painfully on his thighs. His eyes were wide, fearful of another punishment.  
"Please Daddy, I've been a good boy," he whispered shakily. Tony chuckled low in his chest.  
"You _have_ been a good boy, baby breath. This isn't for punishment, it's for fun," he replied, voice low with arousal. Peter whimpered quietly, still fearful. What was Tony's idea of fun?

Tony climbed on the bed behind Peter and caressed his full, round cheeks, pushing two fingers inside of him slowly.  
"God, Peter you are so _tight_ , I just want to stay inside you forever," he cooed, placing a kiss at his lower back. The teen shivered and focused on controlling his breathing.  
Finally, Tony pushed his hard length inch by inch into Peter again. When he'd bottomed out, he rocked his hips up and down, brushing against Peter's prostate maddeningly and Peter let out a shuddering moan.  
"Can you give Bucky's cock some attention too, cupcake?” Tony asked, but Peter knew it wasn't a question.  
"Yes Daddy," he whispered, turning his eyes up at Bucky's bright baby blues. He obediently opened his mouth, sticking his tongue out in invitation. Bucky's face twinged with pink and he gently laced his long fingers through Peter's soft curls, resting the heavy head on his tongue. He tapped his cock against Peter's tongue a few times, making Peter drool a little, then gently pushed inside. He kept his hand fisted around the base of his own cock so that he couldn't push too far into the boy's throat and his head fell back with a moan. Tony huffed a breath of a sigh through his nose at the sight and began fucking into Peter mercilessly, hands gripping and squeezing tightly. Peter's cries were drowned by the length of James' cock, creating vibrations that had James losing control too.  
Stark fucked Peter hard but still managed to take his time before finally coming inside of Peter again with a groan.  
Bucky's breathing was becoming erratic as he pumped in and out of Peter's mouth as fast as he dared without hurting him. A moment later, he pulled his cock from Peter's mouth and gave it a few pumps before splashing hot come all over his mouth and cheeks.  
Peter whimpered a little, both ends dripping in hot come and his cock still hard and straining to be touched.  
James looked at Peter and whispered, "thank you Peter, thank you Daddy," and he raised his eyebrow at Peter, trying to remind him silently of the rules. Peter caught the look and quickly uttered, "thank you Daddy!” before he could invoke a reprimand.  
"You're welcome, gorgeous. You should thank Bucky, too," he responded.  
Peter looked up at Bucky, long lashes thick and dotted with drops of come. "Thank you Ja- Bucky," he'd breathed out quietly. James flushed and ducked his head. "Now, let's take care of that little cock of yours," Tony growled into Peter's ear lowly.

A little while later, they'd all showered, lazily kissing and washing each other, gotten dressed and were sitting comfortably in the living room. Tony had ordered an inhuman amount of Chinese food and was flipping through the channels on the huge tv that hung on the wall with a smile on his face, waiting for it. He'd given Peter a coloring book and crayons and he was happily coloring his favorite Disney characters on the coffee table while sitting cross legged on the floor. Bucky read a book, lounging across a chair. It was oddly comfortable, like they'd been doing it forever. Peter finished the page he was on and started flipping through the pages to look for another one when Tony's phone rang. He answered it and told the other two that he was going downstairs to grab the order from the delivery man. He warned them not to go anywhere and gave Bucky an extra long, pointed look as he said it. They'd both agreed and he'd gone downstairs on the elevator.  
"Tony's not so bad," Bucky said quietly, nose still in his book. "You just have to learn to follow his rules."  
Peter thought about the events of the last night and day and shivered, wondering how he felt so at ease sitting in the living room of the man who was more or less raping him and basically kidnapped them both. He thought back to a lesson he'd had recently at school about different disorders, stolkholm syndrome being one of the them. He'd wondered at the time how anyone could ever grow to love their abuser and it made him start to feel a little queasy. He glanced up at James again and examined his face. He was calm, like he'd never had any better life. His eyes still held light in them and his lips were full and pink, not pallid or grey looking. He wondered if Stark was going to let him go back to school after Sunday ended and his heart stuttered at the thought of never seeing May again.

His thoughts were interrupted when the elevator door dinged open and Tony carried in huge bags of greasy food, setting them on the island in the kitchen.  
"Soup's on!" He said, smile on his face. Bucky obediently closed his book and walked past Peter to meet him and help start sorting things out. Peter followed slowly behind, watching the two of them.  
Tony's smile was warm and it made his eyes crinkle at the corners. His face was handsome, artfully sculpted goatee peppered with silver hairs, and from an outsider's perspective, he looked like a hot DILF. Not anything like the sadistic man he'd been that morning, losing control and striking Peter uncontrollably.  
James was shy and demure looking with a sweet face and eyes that looked knowledgeable. In his eyes he seemed to be someone stronger though, someone who longed to break free of his meek subservient shackles. His body was filled out but not as thick as Tony's. He was just shorter than Peter but he carried himself with his head ducked down and shoulders hunched, probably evidence of a lifetime of servitude and obedience and punishments. Peter felt a twinge of sadness for James and an urge to rescue them both from this very strange situation.

After they'd all grabbed what they wanted and sat down to eat, Peter realized he'd been more hungry than he'd thought. He'd eaten twice as much as the older men with room to spare and Tony had chuckled. 

"It's a wonder you have enough room for all that in your little bitty body, Petey. I suppose all the exercise will do that to you tho," he winked and glanced at Bucky. "You used to be so little like him when you came here-" Peter noted that Tony made it sound like a choice-"you're not my little Tinkerbell anymore, eh Buck?" James blushed and ducked his head down. "Still just as sweet tho." Tony had finished quietly, stroking his chin with the back of his fingers. James smiled a shy smile and glanced up at Tony, sheepishly brushing a lock of hair from his forehead.  
Peter watched their body language and wasn't sure what to make of it. It was getting confusing in his mind, muddling like a drop of ink being spilled into a glass of milk, swirling and becoming one. He prayed he'd get a chance to get out soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some people may not see it as dark as I do but for me it's very much a place I don't usually go. That makes it more interesting to write I think than just your standard meet and greet fluff/smut. But it also takes time and research into a place I don't usually venture. I'm hoping people are enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. I'm making a mood board for this on Tumblr and I'd like to link this chapter to it and vice versa, I just have to learn how to create a hyperlink! Anyways, comments are always welcome of course, I live for them! Thanks! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's Sunday with Tony and Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in writing this chapter, I've been really trying hard to make sure that everything makes sense and that nothing feels too rushed. I've been trying to incorporate suggestions from comments as well as my original plans/ideas but it doesn't seem that many of them have made it into this chapter. I still appreciate the suggestions tho and would love to hear some feedback on this newest chapter!  
> The song the boys listen to is Empty by Ray Lamontagne, the album is Till the Sun Turns Black, you should give it a listen!

Peter, Tony and Bucky had gone to bed a few hours after cleaning up their Chinese food shmorgishborg and Tony had requested the boys sleep with him in his bed. They lay on either side of him, heads on his shoulders and draped across his chest, legs entwined, and he wrapped his arms around them contentedly.  
Tony had woken in the middle of the night to see that Peter and Bucky were holding hands on his chest and he smiled to himself before falling back to sleep.

In the morning, Peter was the first to wake, quietly slipping away to use the restroom. When he came back he slipped back into his place before Tony could realize he'd left and surveyed the position he was in. He examined the two sleeping men in the golden morning light. Tony looked peaceful, face completely unguarded. Nothing threatening, no anger, no calculating, no devious intent. Just peaceful. He was a handsome man when it came down to it. His lips were plump and soft looking, and his eyelashes were thick and dark. Peter sighed contentedly and moved his gaze to James.  
His jaw was square and strong, dusted with dark stubble that surrounded his full pink lips, pouty even in his sleep. The golden sun danced across high cheek bones and a dimple in his chin, nose straight and sort of short. His eyebrows were resting peacefully, set low above his eyes and his lashes were impossibly thick like Tony's. Dark brown hair messily played across his forehead and Peter thought about how soft he remembered it being. Tiny brown freckles dusted artfully across his sirene face and he let out a sigh in his sleep. Peter smiled and felt a warmth growing on his face and in his stomach, watching James' slow, peaceful breathing. He gingerly reached out and lightly ghosted his fingertips slowly across his eyebrows, tracing them from the inside corner to the outside and back again, then he moved to brush the hairs from his forehead, carding his fingers gently through the strands.  
James slowly opened his eyes, blinking heavily, blue irises shining brightly in the morning sun, and smiled at Peter. Peter's face flushed and he sheepishly smiled back.  
He resisted the urge to draw his hand back and instead lightly brushed the backs of his fingers across James' sharp cheek bones and the stubble there. James closed his eyes and enjoyed the tender touch, leaning into it. Peter brought his fingers back down and ran the tip of his first finger across the curved expanse of his bottom lip.  
James slowly opened his eyes again and they roamed across Peter's face as he caressed his lips, then he parted them and ran the tip of his wet tongue across the pad of Peter's finger. Peter barely suppressed a shiver and gently pressed his finger in to the first knuckle, enjoying the feeling of James' warm tongue. James gently sucked on the offered finger, cheeks slightly hollowing around it.  
Peter felt a rush of blood that went straight to his cock and he pressed his knobby knees together in an effort to keep from getting hard.

The boys had been so focused on each other that neither of them had noticed Tony had woken also.  
"G'morning boys," he groggily yawned out, voice deep from sleep "That's a pretty picture to wake up to."  
He huffed a laugh through his nose when they both jumped at his voice. Peter pulled his finger from James' mouth with a soft pop and they both turned wide eyes up to Tony.  
"Good morning, Daddy" James quietly returned. Peter blushed at his morning voice, lower than usual.  
"Good morning, Tony" he said, noting that his own voice still sounded high, even thick with sleep.  
"You call me Daddy, sweetheart," Tony corrected groggily, gently rubbing Peter's shoulders and James' lower back in tandem. Peter ducked his head into Tony's shoulder and squeaked out, "Sorry, Daddy"  
Tony smiled and kissed the top of his head. "It's ok, prince. Just don't forget."  
Peter nodded in affirmation and the three lay in bed, enjoying being curled into each other warmly. 

Both boys gently ran their finger tips across Tony's bare chest and stomach, tracing circles and patterns on his skin and enjoying the feeling of warm flesh, nails grazing across miles of skin.  
Tony groaned at the welcomed feeling, growing more and more aroused as they touched him. He wore a large crooked grin and closed his eyes, drinking in the feeling of the attention being lavished upon him. Peter couldn't help but smile in response to the goofy look on his face and he gently played with the soft hairs that peppered the man's muscled chest.  
James was the first to reach down and begin to fondle Tony's hard length through his sleep pants, making the man moan in contentment. He rubbed an open palm up and down the length of it and squeezed gently, watching his face as he did. Tony relaxed his body and let the boys take control, squirming a little at his arousal. He canted his hips up into the air, pants beginning to grow damp.  
"Mmm... My boys are so sweet. So good to Daddy. Such perfect, pretty little good boys," he moaned softly, back gently arched. Peter watched James blush and smile at the praises bubbling from Tony's lips, spurred on by the man's words. He reached inside Tony's pants to feel the soft skin of the hard length between his legs and loosed his own quiet groan at the feeling. Tony opened his eyes at the noise and smiled at James, licking his lips and rutting against his hand. He leaned forward and kissed James deeply, carding his fingers through his hair and giving it a slight tug. James began canting his hips against Tony's thigh and little broken moans caught in his throat. Tony broke off the kiss and grabbed a handful of James' ass, kneading it firmly and grinding his hardening cock against his thigh harder.  
James let out a low whine and his breathing became heavy, beginning to stroke Tony under his boxer briefs. The two were lost in each other soon and Peter slowly lifted his head from Tony's shoulder to watch the scene before him.  
He was awed by the passion and tenderness with which they caressed and kissed each other, tongues rolling and hands roaming, seeking only to please each other. They knew every nuance of the other from so many years of familiarity but Peter couldn't wrap his head around the way James fawned and preened at Tony's every praise and touch. 

He'd begun to adapt to being obedient to avoid punishment but he didn't think he'd be able to enjoy Tony's attention in quite the same way that James did. Still, he had to admit, he was enjoying the physical aspect more than he thought he would. When Tony wasn't being controlling and sadistic, he was actually a great lover. Peter blushed at the thought.  
By this time, both of the men were naked and James was panting and pink beneath Tony, clearly aching for the touch. Peter felt his cock twitching at the sight and the sounds coming from both of them. He felt his head grow light as his pupils dilated and he swallowed thickly, reaching to stroke himself through his pajamas. He closed his eyes and swiped his palm down against himself twice before Tony noticed him and what he was doing from the corner of his eye. His head snapped toward Peter and he was purely indignation.

 _"PETER"_ he growled out. Peter jumped and drew in a sharp gasp as his eyes flew open, eyebrows knitted together with anxiety. He blinked scared brown doe eyes up at Tony, shoulders hunched to his ears and his pulse accelerated.  
"D-Daddy?" he squeaked out, voice tiny and timid. James' icy blue eyes looked to Peter fearfully.  
Tony lifted himself from Bucky slowly, eyes boring into Peter and he leaned over him, encircling him with his broad arms. 

"I think I told you already that you are _never_ to touch yourself without my express permission," he snarled quietly at Peter, slowly forcing him onto his back as he pressed closer and closer to him. Peter gasped again and he fumbled for words, mouth forming them but failing. Tony's left hand gripped the bottom of Peter's ribs and pinned him to the bed, knocking the breath from Peter and making it hard to fill his lungs. Peter let out a yelp and wrapped his thin fingers around Tony's wrist in attempt to pry him off. Tony slapped Peter's hand away, then followed with a sharp slap to the face.

"You _don't_ try to stop Daddy, little dove. And you don't disobey me." His jaw was set, teeth clenched beneath his lips. Peter cried out and met Tony's almost black eyes with liquid brown ones, finally managing to speak.  
"Please Daddy, I'm sorry! I forgot! I promise I'll be good, Daddy, I _promise! PLEASE, Daddy!_ " His lip quivered and a hot tear rolled from the corner of his eye, arms crossed defensively in an x across his chest. Tony's face softened slightly at the boy's plea and he paused for a moment, so Peter continued on.  
"I didn't mean to disobey you, Daddy, I swear. It's just that you and Bucky looked so... So _good_... It just happened! You two looked so..." His face flushed and he hid his face behind his crossed wrists.  
The anger melted away from Tony's face and body at the boys' words and he let out a long breath, considering them. Finally, he dropped his gaze and nodded slightly.  
"I'm sorry, baby bear," he conceded, "I suppose that's acceptable. But you need to remember the rules from now on. You're not getting any more free passes." He loosed his grip on Peter's ribs and stroked his chest comfortingly, kissing and sucking gently as he did. Peter sniffled and lowered his wrists, peeking over them. Tony kissed harder and began licking small wet patches across the expanse of the boys' torso until Peter had relaxed enough to drop his defenses. Peter gingerly placed his hands on Tony's shoulders, bringing his knees up around the older man's waist. Tony latched his wet mouth around Peter's nipple and swirled his tongue in circles across the sensitive nub of skin and Peter loosed a quiet moan, beginning to cant his hips into the air at Tony.  
"If you need to be touched, you need to _ask_ to be touched," Tony quietly advised Peter between kisses and licks. Peter shivered at the scratch of Tony's ornate goatee against his nipple and sighed out "yes Daddy," as he melted into the bed. He threaded his fingers gently through Tony's hair and enjoyed the sensations the man gifted him. A second soft warm hand rested across Peter's stomach just below his belly button and delicately traced fingertips across the skin there, raising goosebumps across Peter's flesh. Peter opened his eyes to see James' face just inches from his own, bright blue eyes focusing on the teens' mouth with lust blown pupils as he slowly caressed his skin. Peter breathed heavily, senses overloading from the attention of both men and his hips jutted of their own accord. James leaned in towards Peter but stopped himself just centimeters away with a tiny, almost inaudible gasp and his head whipped in Tony's direction. Tony's eyes were already watching from where he sucked Peter's skin and he looked pleased when Bucky stopped himself.  
"Um, Daddy?" James let out shyly. Tony hummed in response. "Can I please kiss Peter?”  
Tony looked up from where he was sucking a purple mark on Peter's side and smiled a salacious grin at him.  
"Yes you may, doll baby, and thank you so much for asking," he leaned forward and kissed Bucky's lips before moving to Peter's throat. Soft sounds of pleasure fell from Peter's mouth before James swallowed them completely, kissing deeply and passionately, exploring with his tongue. Peter gripped the back of James' head and firmly but gently pulled the hair there and with his other hand, he blindly fumbled to do the same to Tony. James let out a moan and Tony loosed a low growl and Peter was lost in a sea of endorphins, thrusting his hips up and writhing in pleasure. Finally, Peter broke the kiss, gasping for air and moaning loudly now.  
"Daddy, please, I need to be _touched_ ," he whined out, a little louder than he'd planned. James' hand started trailing down Peter's chest and stomach toward his hard cock but Tony slapped it away with a stern look.  
"Sorry Daddy," he whispered out sheepishly.  
" _I'm_ going to play with him," Tony mumbled, kissing a trail down the center of Peter's body and hooking his fingers into Peter's waistband, pulling the pants from his hips. Peter panted and whined, rutting his hips into the air.  
Once Tony had gotten Peter completely naked, he firmly grasped his leaking cock and swiped his thumb across the slit through the precome that beaded there. Peter let out a yelp and writhed under the touch, breathing growing erratic.  
" _Pleaaase_..." He moaned, unspecifically and Tony let out a chuckle. He placed a tender kiss under Peter's cock and licked a broad stripe from the base to the tip that had the teen practically climbing from his skin and clawing at the bed beneath him. James leaned forward and licked at Peter's throat where his adam's apple bobbed through his moans, then circled his jaw around his esophagus, sucking and gently biting. Peter immediately grabbed James' head and fisted his hand in his hair, whining pitifully. James wrapped his arms around Peter's chest and rutted softly against his hip. Peter could feel his wetness on his thigh and it sent electricity through his body. 

Tony had snuck away when Peter's attention had been diverted by Bucky and retrieved a massaging toy from his closet while they were occupied with each other. It looked like a long microphone with a round head but it was longer and thicker. He settled himself back between Peter's legs and took hold of his throbbing cock once again, turning the machine on and rolling the large round head of the toy up and down his shaft. Peter screeched out a cry at the unexpected sensation and accidentally yanked James' hair aggressively, causing the man to hiss and recoil. He couldn't stop the squeals ripping from his throat as Tony continued to roll the vibrator around Peter's shaft. His hands reflexively tried to grab at the toy to remove the sensation but Tony pushed them away, finally telling Bucky to hold his hands down while he teased the teen. Peter sobbed and whined, thrashing wildly at the unrelenting pulsations, brought to the edge but unable to come to fruition.  
"Daddy! Fuck-ah, _oh_ daddy, _ooohhhhh_ ," he moaned shrilly. He thrust his hips into the air, partly trying to seek pleasure and partly to pull away from the tool Tony teased with.  
Tony worked the toy with the precision of a surgeon, face almost stoic as he worked the teen into crazed ecstasy. He pulled Peter's cock toward his stomach and turned the toy up a notch, rolling it across his sensitive balls. Peter's pleas were cut off by another shrill squeal at the sensation and tears flowed freely from his eyes.  
James took pity on the teen and kissed him deeply again, trying to give him something else to focus on. Peter's sobs were broken and cut off by sloppy wet kisses.

"Such a _good boy,_ baby!" Tony encouraged, "That feels so good, huh baby boy? What a special treat from your daddy, huh?" he cooed. After another moment he switched off the toy and reached for the lube in the bedside drawer, pouring it over Peter's cock and balls, dripping down over his hole. James broke the kiss to watch Tony with lust blown eyes, feeling a twinge of jealousy at the praise and attention the boy was receiving.  
Peter's sobs quieted down and he tried to catch his breath, mind blown from all the overstimulation. He barely reacted to Tony slicking his cock with the lube or his gentle caressing fingers massaging his hole.

"Daddy?” Bucky timidly called out in a small voice.  
"Yes, kitten?" Tony responded, not looking up from his ministrations.  
"Um... I'm a-um, well... I'm a good boy too, right?" He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, chewing it nervously. His face flushed and he almost looked ashamed of himself. Tony stilled his hands and turned his attention toward Bucky, taking in his almost dejected looking appearance.  
"Oh my little honey pie," he murmured at Bucky, small smile crossing his lips. "Are you jealous of little Petey?”  
Bucky's eyebrows knitted together and he all but crossed his arms like a scorned child and huffed out, "No! I'm not _jealous_ , I just... I'm a good boy too!” Tony couldn't help the laugh that rolled from his chest as he said it and he leaned over to Bucky. He placed a hand on the side of his face and pulled him down until their foreheads touched.  
"Does Tink need a little attention, sweetheart?” he asked quietly. James didn't immediately respond, then after a moment he nodded his head and whispered, "please, Daddy?

Peter had finally managed to pull himself together by this point and was acutely aware of how painfully his cock still throbbed and how close he'd been to receiving his release and he couldn't help the tiny whimper that escaped him. Tony glanced in Peter's direction and clicked his tongue against his teeth, considering both the boys. Finally, it seemed he'd thought of a solution and he directed James to lay next to Peter.  
It reminded Peter of the first time they'd laid on the bed next to each other and he reached out to thread his fingers through James' again. James turned and smiled at him a sheepish smile, like he was silently asking forgiveness for his interruption. Peter gave a squeeze to his hand in answer and leaned over to give him a soft kiss.  
Tony knelt above them watching and gave a gentle sigh at the sight of his boys being affectionate toward each other. "What a pretty little picture you two are," he murmured again. He gripped Peter's hip possessively and licked a long stripe across Bucky's chest.  
Bucky squirmed under his tongue and his hips stuttered in the air. Tony grabbed for the lube again and poured it on Bucky this time, then took Peter and Bucky's cocks into his hands and slowly started working them both. Tony lustfully watched both of them wriggle and moan under his touch and he couldn't hold back his own moans as he drank in the sight of them. He pumped and twisted them in tandem, panting above them as he grew harder and harder himself.  
"Ohhhh, Daddy thank you, thank you-" Bucky moaned appreciation as Peter loosed a steady stream of high pitched "ah-ah's" and "oh's".  
"Jesus, this is like heaven," Tony breathed out as his hands worked faster and faster. He couldn't decide where to look, watching chests heaving hot breaths and hips canting into his hands and miles and miles of creamy, smooth, flushed pink skin.  
"God I fucking love my gorgeous boys," he growled out.  
Peter was the first to reach his climax, screeching out his release as his body tensed and writhed, hips jerkily lifting into Tony's hands, spilling over Tony's fingers. He panted heavily as he came down from his orgasm and Tony released his softening cock to suck his first two fingers into his own mouth, licking Peter's come off dirtily, moaning and watching Peter's face as he did.  
Tony had stopped working Bucky when Peter had come, and he whined quietly in his throat, wiggling his hips to remind Tony that he was still there, needing. Tony turned his attention back to Bucky and smiled, leaning down and kissing him, sharing the taste of Peter on his tongue.  
"Hey Tinkerbell, you ready for Daddy's attention?" He whispered quietly into his ear and Bucky nodded vigorously.  
"Please Daddy, please," he panted and wriggled. Tony smiled and licked his lips, placing a wet kiss on his collar bone.  
Peter watched how eager James was for Tony's attention and the way his whole face and body language seemed to be different than it was just at the beginning of that morning. He seemed shy but eager, and had a nervous energy coursing through his veins. He was so different from his usual quiet, calm and obedient self. Even his expression was more eager; he made more direct eye contact with Tony and chewed his lip between his teeth. His shoulders were drawn up to his ears more often than not and he just seemed... Little.  
Peter couldn't figure it out, but it was amazing to watch how the man opened up. Peter felt his breathing increase just the slightest bit while watching James and his face twinged pink. 

Tony reached to the side of them and retrieved the abandoned toy from the bed, holding it in front of Bucky and gauging his reaction. Bucky's eyes widened and his movements stilled for a moment, then he whined low in his throat, just barely audible and he started to squirm again. Tony smiled and kissed his stomach, wet and loudly, reaching down to grasp Bucky's hard length as it bobbed and twitched between them. He pumped his cock a few times before clicking the toy on and rolling it up and down the sensitive bundle of nerves on the bottom of Bucky's shaft. He gasped, drawing in a sharp breath and his body went rigid, clutching the sheets beneath him. His breaths seemed to have halfway frozen in his throat, unable to fully breathe in or out. His eyes rolled back and his back arched off the bed. Finally, he was able to let out a high pitched, long moan and it broke into a flood of praises and thanks and curses. His knees drew up into the air and he rutted against the toy as Tony roamed over all his most sensitive areas with it. Tony took his free hand and began caressing Bucky's tight pink entrance as he still worked his cock with the toy.  
Peter felt his pupils dilate again and he swallowed thickly, watching Tony's expert hands working the man apart. He unconsciously sat up and leaned closer to Tony to get a better view of his thick calloused fingers.  
Tony noticed the curious teen inching toward him and smiled to himself without saying anything. He decided to breach Bucky slowly while Peter watched and the man let out a soft whimper at the feeling. He slowly began to work his finger in farther and Peter's curious face watched closely, mouth falling open slightly. Tony reached for the lube again and slicked it thickly across Bucky's entrance to ease his second finger in along with the first. He pushed them in farther and started working them faster, much to Bucky's delight.  
Peter noticed James handled the vibrations from the toy much better than he had himself.  
James moaned and canted his hips, clutching for anything he could reach and falling apart under Tony's expert fingers.  
Peter still didn't realize he'd been crawling down the bed closer to where Tony knelt and his hot breath ghosted across Tony's thigh.  
Without any warning once Peter was close enough, Tony swiftly removed his fingers from Bucky's tight pink hole and gripped Peter's hair, causing both boys to yelp. It was only then that Peter realized how far he'd actually moved and he turned his big brown eyes up to Tony.  
"I'm sorry Daddy!” he yelped out, not actually sure if Tony was mad or not.  
Tony gave a gentle but firm tug on his hair and gave him the simple command of "come," and Peter obeyed, crawling on hands and knees to where Tony placed him between Bucky's thighs.  
"Since you're so curious, little one, you can join me."  
Peter shivered, unsure of what to do or how to respond.  
Tony clicked the toy off and set it aside again, placing his left hand between Peter's shoulders and pushing him toward Bucky's hard cock. Peter opened his mouth to swallow Bucky's length, but Tony pulled his head back before he could and pushed him further down until he was laying on his stomach.  
"Stick out your tongue," he commanded, and Peter did.  
"Now, lick him. Right there-" he pointed to Bucky's partially stretched pink rim and Peter flushed. He tried to turn his head to look at Tony but he held his hair tight in his fist and pushed his face forward more until Peter's nose bumped against James' skin. He tentatively licked a tiny strip against his entrance and was surprised to find that the lube Tony had used tasted like green apple. He licked a few more times with more confidence and Tony let out a low growl from his chest.  
"That's it, chipmunk, lick him just like a lollipop," he encouraged. Before long Peter was applying pressure with his tongue and pointing the tip to push past James' puffy rim, slurping and humming as he worked. His lips circled the ring of muscle as he licked with a broad tongue. James soon was pushing back against Peter and moaning loudly, enjoying the teens' inexperienced tongue. Peter slid his hands under James' thighs and reached up to wrap around them, caressing his hips and thighs while he ate the man out. Suddenly, James was panting out "oh, oh!"s and wriggling strongly against Peter's tongue. 

"Don't stop," Tony commanded Peter before he had the chance to even think about it. Peter pressed his face against James harder and moaned as he lapped at his apple flavored skin. Seconds later James was yelling out his release, coming untouched all over his own chest. Peter didn't stop until Tony said so and James writhed under his tongue at the overstimulation, moaning tiredly. Peter's jaw was beginning to ache but he didn't want to disappoint Tony or invoke a punishment so he kept up his vigorous attention.  
Peter heard a wet noise beside him and chanced a glance from the corner of his eye to see Tony stroking his slicked, hard red cock at the sight of the two of them. Moments later he was groaning out his own orgasm, coming all over Peter's face and Bucky's thighs. Finally, he firmly gripped Peter's hair and stilled him, tugging him back slightly and Peter willingly stopped. His face was wet with lube, come and saliva and he panted shallowly as he met Tony's eyes and waited for a response. Tony slowly came down from his orgasm and smiled at the sight of Peter and Bucky laying exhausted on the bed. He shook his head and chuckled to himself, looking from Peter to Bucky.  
"Fuck. I couldn't have asked for two better baby boys if I tried," he breathed out, mostly to himself. He released Peter's hair finally and clapped him gently on the shoulder. "That your first time eating someone out?” he asked. Peter blushed and dropped his gaze, inadvertently meeting James' big blue eyes. He nodded his head in the affirmative and Tony gave his shoulder a little squeeze. Peter quickly responded again, verbally this time.  
"Yes, Daddy."  
"Yes what, baby?”  
"Yes, it was my-my first time... Doing... That," he replied quietly. Tony smiled and turned his attention to Bucky.  
"How'd he do?" Bucky flushed furiously and replied with his eyes cast down,  
"It was really good."  
"Yeah?" Tony pressed, "Did he make you feel good, Tink?"  
Bucky couldn't help the shy, embarrassed smile that hung crooked on his face at the question and he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.  
"Yes Daddy, he felt so good."  
Tony purred contentedly at the answer.  
"Alright boys," he said standing up, "go get washed up and have some breakfast. I'm going down to work on some projects in the lab for a bit. I'll see you soon," he winked and left to get himself cleaned up separately. 

Peter and James' eyes met and they both quickly looked away, smiling and blushing. Peter let out a little cough and stood up, reaching his hand out to help James up and James tentatively took it, soft warm hand gently grasping Peter's small boney one and they walked to the showers together. 

Once again they showered next to each other, shyly watching each other while they washed. James grabbed for his loofa and poured some watermelon scented soap onto it, lathering himself while he watched Peter scrub at his curls. When Peter was finished rinsing, he got his attention with a quiet clearing of his throat. Peter glanced up and saw him holding out the puffy thing towards him.  
"Would you mind doing my back?" James asked in a mousey voice. Peter blushed and took the soapy sponge, waiting for him to turn. He slowly scrubbed over his shoulders; not broad but not scrawny either. Bigger than his own, anyways.  
He moved down slowly, watching the suds wash over reddish brown freckles as he went. He reached out with his other hand and placed it gingerly at the man's hip, holding him still as he took his time. He may have been standing a step or two closer than he needed but who's to say? His still hand rested more easily on James' hip and slowly slid forward toward his stomach as he washed circles on his back. Peter's voice broke the silence after a moment and James jumped a little.

"Why does he call you Tinkerbell?" He mused quietly. James glanced over his shoulder at Peter but didn't really give an answer right away. Peter's hand stilled, waiting for some sort of response and James sighed, turning slowly. The hand at James' side stayed put while he turned, stopping on his lower back once he'd fully spun around and their eyes met fully. (Peter liked being just barely taller than someone)  
He began scrubbing his chest absentmindedly while he waited for a response and James' face flushed. The older man cleared his throat softly and heaved a small sigh.  
"I-I dunno know. I guess, maybe because I used to be so scrawny when I came here. Like _you_ ," he threw the dig with a smirk. Peter gave him a playful shove and scoffed.  
"Bull, he only called you that this morning. Why?" Peter pressed, taking a micro step forward, knobby knees bumping James' knee caps.  
James sighed again and replied, "it's just a _thing_ , it's no big deal."  
Peter blinked at him and his eyes narrowed slightly. He'd forgotten he'd been scrubbing his chest and stood up on his toes, reaching over James' shoulder for more soap, closing the gap between them completely. James wrapped his arms around Peter's waist as soon as their skin met and held him firmly. Peter reached the bottle of soap and came down off his toes but James didn't release him and he flushed, smiling uncontrollably. James tilted his head down, resting it against Peter's forehead and Peter's breathing increased slightly.  
"I'm sorry I got jealous, Petey," he said in a quiet voice. He circled his arms to hold Peter tighter, clasping his own wrists together. Peter's heartbeat sped up and he hoped James couldn't feel it thumping in his chest. James went on.  
"I didn't mean to be... _Bratty._ I'm just... used to getting all the attention," he laughed nervously. "I just hope you know that I'm glad you're-well, I'm not _glad_ you're here but... I'm glad I'm not alone anymore. It's kind of a weird situation I guess. He's done... _AWFUL_ things to me but... He still takes care of me, you know?" He sighed and turned his head to the side, getting lost in his thoughts.  
Before he could stop himself, Peter leaned forward and caught his full red lips with his own, pressing hard against them, nervously but completely. He swiped the tip of his tongue against his bottom lip, asking for access silently. James let out a nervous squeak but didn't stop the teen. After a moment, he fully let his guard down and parted his lips for Peter, allowing him to deepen the kiss. Peter's hands roamed James' back and sides excitedly, ignoring the awkward bottle of soap in one, and enjoyed the way his skin felt under the water.  
After a moment James pulled away, holding Peter at arms length by his hips.  
"We _can't_ kiss, Peter. He almost caught us last time," he said quietly, turning his gaze away.  
Peter nodded knowingly, small smile still on his lips. He pulled his hands away from James and remembered the forgotten sponge and soap, squirting a bit out to continue his task. He felt less dejected this time and couldn't stop himself from admitting, "I like kissing you," with a blush. A smile played across James' face in return and he whispered, "I like kissing you too, Peter. I'm too old for you tho," he tacked on, stepping away from the teen. Peter scoffed out a laugh and shook his head.  
"I don't think that's actually the biggest problem in this situation," he joked and James let out a chuckle. After a moment in thought, Peter handed James the sponge and asked, "will you do me?”  
James blushed and coughed, then nodded and took the sponge. Peter turned and enjoyed the older man's attention while he slowly washed his back, lost in thought. Finally, Peter broke the comfortable silence.  
"We should run away," he said quietly, voice matter of fact. James' hands stopped and Peter turned to face him again. His face was complete discomfort and his icy blue eyes looked nervous.  
" _Peter,-_ " he began. Peter cut him off.  
"Seriously! We could run away from him! Together. You can drive, we can take his car and just go! We can go _anywhere you want to!_ "  
James' face paled and he quickly shut off the water from the shower head above him, turning to leave.  
"Don't talk like that Peter," was all he said in response.

"But-" Peter tried again, quickly scrubbing his hands across his body to rinse the soap off before turning off his own shower head.  
James turned on his heel and cut him off.  
"Peter, that's enough," he said, voice quiet and stern.  
"Stop thinking about that, it won't work and it's really dangerous for you to talk about it." He abruptly turned and grabbed a towel on his way out of the bathroom, leaving a stunned Peter behind.  
James dried himself off with the fluffy towel and quickly grabbed himself some clothes, being sure to leave an outfit out for Peter. He quickly slid his jeans on and pulled his blue cotton t-shirt over his head but Peter met him before he could leave the room, towel wrapped around his waist.  
"Wait!” he called out to James. "I mean, don't you _want_ to?"  
James turned and looked at Peter with a hard expression and then made to leave the room again.  
"James! Do you _really_ want to stay here?" He asked incredulously, voice rising in pitch. James stopped again and turned around, closing the distance between them quickly.  
"You need to lower your voice," he started. "It's not about what _I want._ It's about staying _safe_. If we even think about leaving, very bad things will happen. Ok, _very bad._ But if we stay? He'll take care of us. He'll love us and treat us well. He'll buy us gifts and spoil us. Sure, he has a few rules and he can be rough and demanding sometimes, but I'd rather be _fucked hard_ than have bones broken and be _tortured_." He hissed in a whisper. He held his left hand up in front of Peter's face. "You see that? How that one is just so slightly crooked? That's because I tried to run. I tried to leave him and I was punished. _And I deserved it!_ He's good to me now and I'm not going to mess that up. I _like_ eating. And sleeping. And not being beaten, and bleeding on the floor. I _like_ my extremities to be intact. And I like not having to worry about where I'm going to sleep at night."  
Peter's face paled and tears sprang to his eyes at the thought of what James had been through and the fact that he thought he deserved it. James pulled his shirt up to reveal his right side and the almost perfectly round scar there. "Look familiar?" he asked. "Looks just like the one he gave you, huh? On your chest?" Peter glanced down at his bite mark. It wasn't healed completely yet.  
"He _marked_ you. Marked us _both_. We _belong_ to him."  
With that he dropped his shirt back down and stormed to the kitchen, leaving Peter to process what he'd been told while he dressed. 

Peter slowly walked to the kitchen once he'd dressed and sat somberly at the breakfast bar, watching James stir butter into a big bowl of oatmeal at the counter. He scooped two portions and crossed the kitchen to hand Peter a bowl, sitting across from him at the bar. Peter quietly thanked him and watched his lips as James gently blew on and took a cautious bite of the hot mush. James met Peter's eyes for just a second and looked back at his bowl with a solemn face. They sat in silence for a few moments, just the sound of Peter's spoon stirring in his bowl but he couldn't bring himself to take a bite.  
After a few more minutes Peter spoke up, voice quiet.  
"You didn't _deserve_ it. You deserve _better_. We both do."  
James abruptly dropped his spoon with a clank and stood up, walking to the fridge and looking inside; avoiding. Peter pressed on.  
"James, we could _have_ better. We're not _possessions_. We deserve to be happy! And to be treated like people. Not pets, or slaves." James shut the refrigerator door, a little harder than necessary and loudly dropped a container of blueberries on the bar.  
"That's enough, Peter," he said, voice barely above a whisper. He opened the plastic container and dropped a few into his oatmeal, offering the container to Peter. Peter reached for a few for himself, pouring them into his own oatmeal but he didn't let up.  
"Please, just tell me this-"  
" _Peter-_ "  
" _Please_ James, just answer this; if you weren't scared of him, would you...leave...with me?” his face flushed as he asked but he kept his gaze on James' face. The older man stirred his bowl absently, not making eye contact. Finally, he looked up with a sigh.  
"Hypothetically, yes. I would," he said it so quietly Peter almost didn't hear it. He fidgeted nervously in his seat and Peter couldn't help the tiny smile that crossed his face. Peter didn't say anything else, satisfied with the man's answer, finally taking a tiny bite of his breakfast and studying James' handsome face as he chewed thoughtfully.  
He made up his mind then that he'd find a way out. For both of them.

A few hours later, James and Peter had eaten and cleaned up and were relaxing in the living room. James had turned on some music and it played comfortably in the background while he sprawled across an armchair with a worn old book. It was some folk-y music that gave Peter a feeling of happiness and sadness at the same time; _saudade_. It sounded like summer through a nostalgia filter, with steel guitar and banjos, and it made Peter feel eerily calm and nervous; antsy almost. The singer's voice was husky. He sounded like whiskey soaked velvet and Peter shivered.  
"Who is this?" Peter asked James.  
"It's Ray Lamontagne," he answered, nose in his book. "It's one of my favorite albums."  
"Hmm," was all Peter responded with. He sat on the floor, coloring on the coffee table again. He put down his crayon and looked up at James.  
"Can I ask a question?”  
"I like it, it's sweet and romantic and not _all_ the songs are this sad sounding. Some are pretty upbeat." He explained it like he'd been asked before why he chose this particular music selection. He turned the page. Peter huffed a laugh through his nose and replied, "that's not what I was going to ask, but if you ask me, it's a little haunting," with a small smirk on his face. 

The sunlight was streaming through the large windows fully by this time of the morning, almost afternoon, and bathed the room in a warm golden light. The song had changed by then and Peter noted that James was right. The new song seemed to match the quiet calm atmosphere and Peter liked it better than the last track.  
"Oh," James replied, cheeks twinging pink. "What's up?"  
Peter regarded the impressive selection of coloring books spread before him and the large box of crayons that seemed pretty well used.  
"Why does Tony have coloring books? And... _crayons?_ "  
James blushed brighter and fidgeted a bit on the chair he sprawled across, pulling the book up farther, just his eyes visible over it. Peter looked at him quizzically.  
"Unless... They're not Tony's?” he added.  
James' blush reached his ears and he pretended he hadn't heard the last bit. Peter smirked.  
"Are these yours?” he asked outright, crooked smile playing on his lips. 

James covered his face completely. He looked kind of comical, such a large man hiding behind such a small book, red ears sticking out. Peter laughed genuinely for the first time since he'd left school Friday. James lowered his book and couldn't help his own smile at the sound, studying Peter's bright grin.  
"Shut up!” he playfully yelled, still blushing.  
"Oh my god, these are totally _your_ coloring books!” he laughed loudly.  
"I like to color, ok?!" James said, feigning annoyance. Peter laughed again.  
"Crayons?!" he repeated genially.  
"Do you _also_ drink juice from a sippy cup while you color?" He teased.  
"Not _all_ the time!" James replied. "Sometimes I just feel a little... _little_. It's nice to just color and-and watch cartoons and let someone spoil you once in a while." His face flushed again as he explained. Peter smiled but he didn't say anything, mulling it over in his head for a moment.  
"So... You really drink out of a sippy cup?" He teased quietly. James scoffed.  
"I guess sometimes," he huffed out. "Let me read!” he tacked on, covering his face with the book again to hide his shy embarrassment. 

Peter chuckled quietly to himself and leaned back against the sofa, arms folded behind his head and ankles crossed as he studied the older man. He definitely couldn't deny his attraction to him. He seemed shy and smart and interesting and he was oh so good looking, which didn't hurt a bit. Plus Peter already knew he was a good lover. He blushed at the thought and his hands came down to rest in his lap. The song had changed again.

_...I walk on down the hill  
Through grass grown tall  
And brown and still  
It's hard somehow  
To let go of my pain_

He watched James' indigo blue eyes skimming slowly back and forth over the words as he read, tilting his head slightly.

_...On past the busted back  
Of that old and rusted Cadillac  
That sinks into this field  
Collecting rain_

Peter could just see the tops of James' cheekbones above the cover of his book, highlighted by the high sun and dusted with dark stubble and a few freckles, and the bridge of his nose. He wondered if he'd have been so attracted to him in a different situation and figured it would probably still be yes.

_...Will I always feel this way  
So empty  
So estranged?_

James looked up after a moment and their eyes met. Peter could see his smile in the way his eyes crinkled up, tiny creases at the corners, and the tops of his cheeks flushed light pink. His eyes widened and he dropped his book to his lap.  
" _Stop_!" He laughed, smile wide over his pointed white teeth.

_...If through my cracked and dusty  
Dime store lips  
I spoke these words out loud  
Would no one hear me?_

Peter smiled and ducked his head down then cleared his throat. He pretended to turn his focus back to the coloring books on the table in front of him. James brought his book back up but his eyes stayed trained to Peter.

_...Well I looked my demons in the eyes  
Lay bare my chest  
Said do your best  
To destroy me_

Peter looked back at James and James quickly looked back to his book, eyes crinkling again.  
He tilted his head quizzically and broke the silence.  
"So... Does you, like, being... _little..._ have anything to do with why Tony calls you Tinkerbell?" James lowered his book again and met Peter's gaze.  
"Yeah," he replied quietly. "He started calling me that when he figured it out... About me... He was making me beg for... comfort-more or less-and he figured out how to... Override my systems. He's good at exploiting it now. He said it made me look "so small and dainty". I think he likes to feel power over something... Weaker." He thought about it for a moment, eyes unfocused before he amended, "He's also good at taking care of me when I feel that way too." He added pointedly looking Peter in the eye.

_...See I've been to hell and back  
So many times  
I must admit  
You kinda bore me_

Peter caught the silent message and tilted his chin up, regarding James' expression quietly. 

_...There's a lot of things  
That can kill a man  
There's a lot of ways  
To die  
Yes, and some already did  
And walk beside me_

"What kind of things does he do for you? And like, how do you know...?" Peter asked quietly. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking." His legs started fidgeting under the coffee table.  
James' cheeks were red, contrasting his ocean blue eyes and making them look even more pronounced.  
"How do I know _what?_ " He answered with his own question.

_...There's a lot of things  
I don't understand  
Why so many people lie_

Peter ducked his head, unsure of how to answer that question.  
"Um, I mean... How do you know you're... Little? Or like, whatever you call it." He rubbed his arm nervously.  
James' lips curled up a little on the ends and he looked down at the book that was now closed in his lap.

_...It's the hurt I hide that fuels  
The fire inside me_

"It just... Happens. I just feel... _Small_. Kind of vulnerable. Sometimes jealous, sometimes sad." His eyes lost focus and he looked wistful for a moment. Peter waited patiently for him to continue.  
"He protects me. He holds me and loves me and makes it all better. He gets me things to comfort me, like my favorite stuffy or movie or a blanket..."

_...Will I always feel this way  
So empty  
So estranged?_

Peter listened with rapt attention, never having experienced anything like what he was hearing before. He couldn't help feeling a little jealous though. _He_ wanted to comfort James and the realization made Peter feel bashful.  
"I think that's part of why he likes to be called daddy, too. Makes him feel more... I don't know, in charge?" James shrugged and regarded Peter fully.  
"No one's ever asked me that before," he stated. "I've never thought about how to answer."  
Peter smiled a shy smile and lowered his gaze again to his lap.

Suddenly, the elevator doors dinged open and a sweaty, greasy Tony stepped off. He'd been down in the workshop for most of the afternoon. He went to the kitchen to get a glass of ice water and saw Peter and James sitting in the living room happily. He walked over to them and stood sipping his water and taking in the scene.  
"Ray again?” he asked Bucky. He sheepishly nodded out a "yes Daddy" and unfurled his long legs to stand and turn the music off. Tony stopped him and told him to sit back down, then he walked over to Bucky and leaned down to kiss him. He whispered something to the younger man and his cheeks went pink and he nodded his head. Tony leaned forward again and kissed his forehead, then turned to where Peter sat.  
"Your picture looks nice, Peter. Stand up, please," he asked calmly. Peter did as he was told and Tony leaned forward, placing his free hand on the base of his neck and pulling him into a kiss. His tongue lazily roamed the inside of his mouth and Peter blushed when he tasted cinnamon candy on his tongue. Tony broke the kiss and smiled. "You're such a good boy already Peter. I should give you a treat when I'm done with my shower," he said low in the teens' ear. Peter shivered at the thought but smiled out a "thank you, Daddy," anyways and Tony gave him a pat on the butt and left for the shower.

Once he was out of earshot, Peter looked at James and whispered "we could just go..." James gave him a look of warning over his book and didn't respond. Peter sighed and sat down on the couch, curling his legs underneath of him. After a moment he asked, "what do you think he's gunna do?"  
"I dunno," James shrugged, "could be anything. Some great sex, an ice cream sundae? Literally, anything that's in his head right now. Probably sex though."  
His gaze lingered on Peter and his nervous body language for a moment. "Do you like it?" He asked with no context. Peter looked at him quizzically.  
"The sex," he clarified. "I know you were a virgin when you came here. You're definitely not now-" Peter blushed-"so I'm just wondering... Do you like it?"  
Peter ducked his head, hiding his red face behind his shaggy curls, then after a minute he looked back up at James.  
"Not... _all_ of it. I would have preferred my first time to be... More like it was with you. I enjoyed that one for sure," he smiled, flushing uncontrollably. James just smiled back, cheeks pink as he replied, "I'm glad I was good for you."  
Peter felt himself starting to get hard thinking about how intimate it actually was and pressed his hands into his lap. James watched Peter with a smile across his lips.  
"I've liked all the times you've touched me," Peter squeaked out, voice quiet and shy. James' smile grew bigger and he bit his lip between his teeth, pulling his book back open and pretending to read again. 

Peter fidgeted nervously for a few more minutes trying to figure out what Tony was going to do to him. He didn't have to wait long because Tony was soon calling his name gently down the hallway. His eyes widened and he glanced at James timidly. He was nervous to be without him in the same room. James' ocean blue eyes widened in response and he whispered, "a little advice; If you wait as long as you can before you ask him to stop something he's doing, he's more likely to stop. If you ask too soon, he'll keep doing it to make you beg harder."  
Anxiety churned in Peter's stomach at the words and he slowly made his way down the hall, glancing over his shoulder at the pretty man as he went.  
Finally he reached the end of the hall where Tony stood holding the door open and ushering him inside his bedroom. It was dark in the room, save for a few scented candles lit randomly on the furniture and Tony closed the door behind them. Peter jumped at the sound of it but before he could turn around, Tony's big hands were gripping Peter's hips firmly from behind. He pressed his much larger body up against Peter's and he buried his nose in his hair, smelling the sweet scent of the shampoo he'd used. Peter forced himself to stand as still as possible.  
"Mmm. You smell like Bucky. I'll have to get you your own shampoo," Tony's voice growled low and absently, nuzzling his nose against Peter's neck, hair and temple. He started gently running his hands across the waistband of his borrowed jeans and his fingertips lightly brushed the sensitive skin just above them, reaching below the denim and pulling up the hem of his soft t-shirt. Peter couldn't suppress his shiver as goose bumps bloomed across his skin. James was right, his treat was definitely going to be sex.  
Tony slowly pulled his shirt off and tossed it aside, then gripped his hips again and steered him toward the bed. Peter tried to swallow his fear as his knees hit the end of the bed and he fell forward onto his hands. Tony quickly gripped Peter's jeans and held him still, caressing the swell of his ass and sliding his fingers along the seam. Peter shuddered again when Tony's fingers brushed against his sensitive scrotum through his denim pants and he started to grow hard. Tony gripped his waistband and lifted his small frame onto the bed, causing him to lose his balance and sprawl onto the red comforter with an "oomph". Tony chuckled low in his chest.  
"Get comfy, sparrow," he told him as he walked the perimeter of the bed, unbuttoning his own shirt. Peter climbed up to the pillows and lay down in the middle of the the big fluffy pile. The room was starting to smell sweet, like fruit, from the candles and it helped to relax and ground Peter.  
"It smells good in here Daddy," Peter squeaked out in a tiny voice, nervous to be speaking without permission. Tony smiled. His face looked warm and open and it helped Peter's nerves to calm.  
"Thank you sweetheart, I chose them with you in mind. I hoped you might like them." He slid his own shirt off his shoulders and dropped it to the floor, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking over his shoulder at the teens' small frame.  
"Peter," he started, seemingly mulling over his thoughts as he said them, "I _want_ you to be comfortable here." He paused before he continued. "I know I did some things when you got here that probably made you feel... _bad..._ " Peter fidgeted.  
"I may have rushed things a bit... _However,_ I would like to personally tell you that I am... _sorry."_ Pause.  
"I get a little... Overly possessive sometimes. And I do like to assert dominance. I should have waited until you were more comfortable with me. And my... _commanding_... self... Before I forced you to do anything. I have a very hard time accepting no as an answer. I'm still not keen on being told no. But... I'm working on it." He spoke slowly, thoroughly thinking over what he wanted to say before he said it.  
"I want you to stay here. Be my little boy. I really don't _want_ you to have the option to say no. And I'm not actually giving you much of a choice," he pointedly met Peter's cinnamon eyes, dark in the low light. His own eyes looked almost black. "But... I'm willing to... Do things for you. Specific things... to make you happy. I want you to feel comfortable with asking me for things. Like Tink. When he needs something, he just asks me sweetly. Appeals to my soft spot for innocence," he winked at Peter. He heaved a small sigh and turned fully to face Peter and gently brushed his fingertips across his stomach. Peter shuddered but didn't necessarily dislike the feeling. He turned his body incrementally towards Tony and his arms raised above his head on the pillows before he thought about how exposed he'd feel. Tony smiled warmly in the soft light and drank in the sight of the half naked, vulnerable boy. Peter's hips rocked gently but he remained silent.  
Tony went on quietly. "I want to... _own_ you. _Completely._ But... I want you to be... _happy_ about it," he chuckled to himself again. "I hope I can help you to forgive me soon," he finished. Peter blushed and smiled, affection growing in his stomach.  
Tony turned toward the nightstand on the side of the bed and reached for a large velvety square box that rested atop it, lifting the lid and reaching inside.  
"Open up, love," he instructed Peter. Peter obediently opened his mouth, thrusting his tongue out slightly and closing his eyes. A moment later, a soft square gently rested on his tongue, catching him a little by surprise. He peeked his eyes open and saw Tony's handsome face hovering just above him, focusing on his mouth. He tentatively pulled his tongue back in and the small square started melting almost immediately, drenching his taste buds with creamy, rich chocolate. He let out a moan of pleasure before he could swallow it back, and his eyes fluttered shut again as he relished in the decadent flavor. Tony's ornate goatee gently brushed his chin as the older man softly kissed the corner of his mouth.  
" _That_ is one of the best, most rare pieces of chocolate the world has to offer. I'm assuming you like chocolate?" His voice was low and deep, just below Peter's ear and his warm breath fanned across Peter's throat. Peter blushed and smiled, opening his eyes. He nodded sheepishly at Tony, then followed with a quiet, "yes Daddy, I love it." Tony's grin grew larger. "Thought you might."  
"Thank you," Peter said, genuinely grateful for the delicious treat.  
"You can have as many as you like, baby boy. Those are all for you."  
Peter's eyes widened. " _All_ of them?! They had to be so expensive!" He gasped out. Tony chuckled and kissed his forehead.  
"Money isn't a factor here, Petey Pie," he said warmly. "I just want to make my boys happy." Peter fidgeted a little, uncomfortable with the expensive gift, and he turned on his side toward Tony. "Can I share some with Ja-Bucky?" Tony smiled. "Of course you can, they're yours." He thought for a moment, then asked, "Did he ask you to call him James?" Peter stilled, unsure of what might be the best way to answer. Finally, he nodded his head ever so slightly in the affirmative. Tony's eyebrows went up slowly and his smile started to fall a little. Peter quickly corrected himself. "I mean, yes Daddy! He-he said to call him James." Tony's face softened again and he looked satisfied with the answer. Peter hoped he hadn't let out some kind of secret.  
"He's not going to be in trouble is he?" Peter asked timidly. Tony laughed a little before he responded. "No, sweetheart, he's not going to be in trouble."  
Peter let go of tension in his shoulders he didn't realize he'd been holding and breathed out relief. Tony reached out and stroked Peter's chest and stomach lovingly, seemingly lost in thought. His hand began to press against Peter's skin more firmly and his fingernails began to lightly scratch at it after a moment. Finally, he broke the silence in a voice that was barely audible.  
"I _do_ own you." He turned his head to look at Peter and the shadows that fell across his face made him look ominous. Peter's heart skipped and his nerves steeled, eyes going wide.  
"Daddy?” he timidly whispered. Tony's mouth twisted into a smirk and he gripped Peter's waistband, giving a firm tug.  
"Take these off," he commanded.  
Peter made haste to do as he was told and unbuttoned his pants, shucking them from his hips. James hadn't given him any underwear when he'd given him clothes, so once the jeans were off, he was completely exposed. Tony took Peter's soft cock in his hand and gave it a few firm pumps, squeezing gently.  
"You should be ready for Daddy, sweetheart," he said. His voice was even, not angry or loud at all. The lack of emotion in his voice was almost more threatening than if he were to yell. Peter gulped and stammered out, "I-I I'm sorry Daddy, I-" but Tony cut him off.  
"Just think about something that _really_ turns you on. Think about this morning when you ate out _James-_ " Peter flushed bright red-"that was such a pretty sight. You made him come with just your tongue. He _loved_ it." Peter's cock twitched at the thought. "Or maybe yesterday morning when he was sucking you off, remember how he looked then? He was so good, wasn't he? That pretty mouth stretched out around your dick? Mmm," Tony continued to stroke Peter as he talked and the teen was beginning to grow hard. "The first time I made you take all of me in your mouth, I wish you could have seen yourself. You were so fucking sexy, honey," Tony purred on, strokes becoming tighter and slower.  
"How about your first time with James? You came _so_ hard."  
By this time, Peter's cock had filled completely and was achingly hard. He started wriggling under Tony's touch and he couldn't hold back quiet whimpers. Tony released Peter finally and cooed, "Such a good boy. This is how you should be for Daddy if you think he wants you. Remember that in the future." Peter nodded vigorously.  
Tony reached for a bottle of lube and squirted a generous amount onto his fingers, which he promptly slathered all over Peter's entrance. Peter shuddered at the cold sensation and willed his muscles to relax before Tony could breach his hole with his finger. Tony didn't hesitate, thrusting his first finger in slowly without any warning. He pushed all the way in and watched Peter squirm and try to adjust to the intrusion. Peter did his best to stay quiet but when Tony's second finger slowly joined the first, he couldn't contain the sound that punched it's way out of his lungs. He gripped the pillow under his head and fixed his eyes to a spot on the ceiling, willing himself into a calmer state. Tony snapped his fingers a few times loudly by Peter's ear, quickly bringing him back to the present with a start and a high pitched whine escaped his throat.  
"You stay _here_ , you stay _with me,_ " Tony said with an edge in his voice. He looked Peter in the eyes with a silent warning and Peter slowly nodded, eyes filling with tears.  
Tony noticed the shine in Peter's eyes and his demeanor softened, shushing the teen.  
"Sweetheart, you don't have to be afraid. I want to make you feel good too. But I can't do that if you aren't here, right?" He reasoned.  
"Yes Daddy," Peter whispered out, voice quavering. He wasn't entirely convinced but he definitely wasn't going to argue. He thought about the advice that Bucky had given him and decided to take as much as he could before he had to cry out or beg to stop. His veins chilled at the thought of accepting as much abuse as he could before begging to stop but he wasn't going to try to fight it. He was alone and completely vulnerable, and he wasn't even sure if James would help him if he _were_ there, so that thought didn't bring him much comfort either. He took a deep breath and bit back a groan as Tony turned his attention back to working open Peter's tight hole. He pushed his thick, calloused fingers in deep, searching to hit Peter's prostate and watching the teens face for any signs of success.  
"You're so fucking tight baby, I can barely handle you. Beautiful young little ass," Tony breathed out in a lust blown voice. He licked his lips as he watched Peter's face, eyes closed and cheeks red, mouth parted open and concentrating on his own pleasure.  
After a few minutes, the discomfort and slight burn gave way to pleasure and Peter was moaning under his breath and starting to push back against Tony's fingers, just barely grazing his pleasure spot.  
"That's it baby," Tony encouraged, giving the teens' hard cock a few pumps. "Such a good boy for your Daddy, you _love_ it don't you? Daddy's little virgin slut," he babbled as his own arousal started to overcome him. He quickly pulled his fingers from Peter and hastily removed his own pants, freeing his long heavy cock from it's denim confines.  
Peter was still mostly stretched from that morning so he didn't need to be prepped very much and Tony gripped his hips, yanking him up off the bed.  
"Come," Tony commanded, ignoring his surprised yelp as he pulled him into a sitting position. Tony turned them so that he was sitting upright against the headboard of the bed and Peter faced him. He crooked his fingers at Peter impatiently and pointed to his own fat cock, leaking precome.  
"Come sit in my lap, Peter," he demanded. Peter's heart sped up and sweat broke across his brow as he stuttered.  
"B-b-but, I-I, Mr. Stark, I-I've never, I-I can't-" Tony's hand flashed out and gripped Peter's jaw tightly, yanking his face forward. Peter let out a yelp at the sharp pain.  
" _Sit. On. My. Cock._ " he growled out, any patience he did have long since gone. He gave Peter a firm slap on the cheek as he let go of his jaw and motioned his fingers at Peter again. " _Now._ I won't ask nicely again," he warned. Peter shakily scrambled to straddle Tony's wide hips, eyes wide with anxiety and fear. He hovered for a moment, trying to adjust to the width between his thighs, shifting his weight and his anxiety grew with each second, trying to rush to get comfortable so that Tony didn't have to wait any longer than necessary. He gingerly placed his shaking hands on Tony's shoulders and looked behind him, little whimpers falling from his lips as he tried to decide how to lower himself onto Tony's monster dick, chest heaving broken sobs. He gripped Tony's cock and aligned the head with his entrance, preparing to lower himself.  
Before he could sink his hips down at his own pace, Tony was out of patience. He placed his large hands on Peter's boney shoulders and Peter's head whipped around, chestnut eyes huge and round with fear, meeting Tony's almost black ones. Before he could speak or move, Tony violently pressed Peter's full weight down in one fluid movement at the same time he lifted his hips into Peter.  
Peter's knees buckled and he let out an undignified scream at the pain, arching his back and then falling forward onto Tony's shoulder. At the same moment, Tony released a loud moan of pleasure at the feeling of the tight wet heat surrounding him; two opposite sides of the same feeling. Peter's nails dug into Tony's shoulders as he clutched onto the older man tightly, tears falling freely and heaving loud sobs into his collar bones. Peter's whole body trembled as he tried his best to adjust to the sudden stretch and burn and he felt a little sick to his stomach from the pain of it. He wondered if he was bleeding but he couldn't tell.  
He was still trying to get his bearings back when Tony's lips brushed against the shell of the teens' ear and he growled in a low voice, " _Fuck_ me, Peter. Tick tock." His hands slid down Peter's shoulders, down the sides of his chest and came to rest on his hips, holding firmly. Peter tried to quiet his sobs and started shifting his hips back and forth painfully slowly, fingers still clutching Tony's skin to try to divert the pain. He left his head down on the older mans' shoulder so he wouldn't have to look him in the eyes.  
Peter's hips started rocking more confidently after just a moment and Tony loosened up his grip on the teen.  
"Atta boy, good job sweetheart," he praised the boy. After a moment, Peter's pain began to give way to something more like comfort and he started to really roll his hips the way he knew Tony wanted. He brought his hands down from Tony's shoulders to his waist and used it as leverage to move, pulling his body close. Tony's hands started to roam up and down Peter's body, softly scratching at his shoulders then sliding down to cup his ass cheeks, gripping firmly. He started lifting Peter up and down at a steady pace and Peter let out a few squeaks of pain at the feeling.  
"Bounce on my cock baby, c'mon. Be a good boy," he whispered into Peter's ear. Peter started lifting his hips up and down a little bit slower than Tony had been, experimenting with what angle to hold himself at and how high off of Tony's cock to pull himself before sliding back down. The lube that Tony had applied earlier was almost gone and the friction was starting to make Peter more sore than he already was. He let out a little whimper and wondered if he should ask for more or if he should hope Tony would just do it. He decided it would be best to just ask.  
"...Daddy?" he whispered, voice small and high. Tony let out a growl at the sound and Peter felt his cock jerk inside of him.  
"Yes, honey pie?" he growled in response.  
"Um, can I-may I please, well..." Tony let out a heavy breath that sounded close to annoyance.  
"I'm sorry Daddy but I-I need some more lube..." Peter buried his face farther into Tony's neck to hide his red face. Tony let out a sound of understanding and quietly chuckled.  
"Oh baby, of course. I'm sorry if I was hurting you," he murmured into Peter's soft curls.  
Peter almost laughed out loud at the absurd irony of that statement but instead he gratefully thanked Tony and leaned forward to allow Tony the most access with the lube as possible. Tony reached for the bottle and squirted it onto his hand, slicking all around Peter's stretched entrance and the root of his own cock until they were both dripping with the stuff. Peter moaned at the feeling of the cool liquid on his burning skin and genuinely appreciated the man's attention for it. Once Tony was finished, he gripped Peter's thighs right where ass met legs and lifted him up slightly. He began to fuck into Peter while he held him in place, hard but slow, snapping his hips loudly into him. Peter let out a yelp and held on to Tony's shoulders again, feeling Tony's thick cock hitting his prostate with every thrust, his own cock throbbing between them at the feeling. Tony's pace began to speed up and Peter couldn't stop the noises that spilled from him at every thrust, growing louder the harder Tony fucked.  
"Mmmm, baby those little noises you make... I could fuck you all day just to hear those noises," Tony muttered, getting lost in his own pleasure. Finally, he stopped thrusting entirely and started using Peter's body weight to drag him back and forth on his cock. Peter cried out again at the sudden change and Tony gave him a hard slap on his ass.  
"Fuck me, Peter. Hard-"  
Another slap.  
"Fast-"  
A harder slap.  
" _Now._ "  
Peter let out another yelp and began canting his hips and bouncing and snapping and rolling wildly, trying to please the man with the power. His breathing sped up and he didn't even notice the little whimpers that fell out with each exhale as he worked himself into a frenzy. Tony closed his eyes and started moaning loudly as Peter's little body got him closer and closer to satisfaction.  
He slapped Peter's ass again, " _YES_ , baby, fuck me, yes, good boy. Such a good boy, Peter, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop-" he let out a loud yell as he finally came inside Peter, painting his walls with hot liquid, dripping out of him as he rode out his orgasm inside the teen.  
" _OOOHH!_ " Peter wailed as Tony lost control inside him. All of his muscles contracted and tensed, being gripped and pulled and filled in such an overwhelming way. Tony panted as he came down and Peter felt the muscles in his spine pulling tightly as he waited for permission to dismount from the older man, face still buried in the crook of his neck.  
After a moment, Tony reached for Peter's hair, gripping a small handful and tugging him gently so he could see the boys face.  
Peter still had tears drying on his cheeks, face splotchy and red and his eyes were slightly swollen from crying. His lips were full and trembled slightly, and he couldn't bring himself to meet Tony's eyes, focusing instead on his lips. He breathed shallowly, hoping to be released soon. Tony leaned forward and gently kissed his lips.  
"God sweetheart, you are _so amazing._ You're so tight it almost hurts. And you sound _so beautiful_. Bucky is a good boy too, so obedient and gorgeous. But _you..._ there's just something about you, Peter. I can't wait to spoil you for the rest of your life," he murmured affectionately to him. Peter suppressed a chill at the man's proclamation of forever and waited patiently, expressionless.  
"We're almost done, baby boy. Then I'll get you into a nice hot bubble bath," Tony said after a moment, recognizing the look of fatigue on Peter's face. Peter's eyes snapped to Tony's at that.  
"Almost?" He squeaked, trying to keep the tremble from his voice.  
"Of course baby, you made Daddy cum _so_ hard, it would be impolite not to return the favor."  
Peter let out a whine as Tony shifted their positions, laying over top of Peter without pulling out his still hard cock. Peter tried to hold back tears as they sprang to his eyes. His body was so sore and painful, he wouldn't be object to Tony neglecting him this time around, but he knew that's not how it was going to happen. He braced himself as Tony pulled himself onto his knees and prepared to thrust into the boy again. Tony reached between them and took hold of Peter's softening cock gently, giving it a few easy pumps before he slowly pressed himself in to the hilt. Peter hissed at the burning feeling in his abused rim and Tony stopped again, reaching for the lube. He poured it over the two of them again, murmuring out apologies to the younger as he tried to comfort him.  
Peter was surprised at the level of tenderness and care that Tony showed him as he slowly pumped into him, brushing his prostate as often as he could. Tony caressed his cock back to hardness and worked his fist in time with his hips, quickly bringing Peter into a mewling, writhing mess. Peter pulled his knees up to his chest as Tony brought him closer to his own release, moaning and panting as he got closer.  
"That's it, so good for baby. Make little Peter feel _sooo_ good on Daddy's cock. That's my little boy, come for Daddy Peter. Come, Peter. Come, Peter," Tony whispered praises and encouragement into Peter's ear as he pumped his cock faster. Finally, Peter couldn't hold back any longer and yelled out as he released, spilling come all over Tony's fist. Tony kissed Peter deeply and leaned his forehead against Peter's, waiting for Peter to come down and catch his breath. He slowly pulled his cock out of Peter and rested his body on top of him, holding him as he regained control of himself.  
As soon as Peter came back to himself he reached up to touch Tony's face with shaking fingers, stream of appreciation falling from his lips. Tony smiled warmly and enjoyed the attention and eye contact he previously hadn't received.  
After a moment, Peter quieted, energy having depleted and he lay flat on the bed, just breathing deeply. Tony kissed his eyebrow gently and lifted himself from the teen.  
"I'm going to start a bath for you. Lots of bubbles," he winked as he left.  
Peter lay in the low lit room, candles flickering and making the room smell like watermelon, enjoying the feeling of the cool comforter beneath him and enjoying the silence. Maybe this wasn't so bad after all.

Tony had lifted Peter's tired body from the bed and carried him to a large tub in the bathroom, filled with bubbles as promised. The water was a shimmery pink color and smelled sweet and intoxicating and Peter almost fell asleep as soon as he was placed into it. Tony lovingly washed his body with lush creamy soaps and massaged his achy muscles, caressing and kissing as he went. Peter sighed in contentment and enjoyed the tender care.  
After Peter had soaked long enough, Tony had wrapped him in a towel and carried him back to the bedroom and laid him gently back on the bed. He opened the nightstand drawer again and retrieved a tube of cream, squeezing some onto his finger. He gently used his other hand to pull Peter's cheeks apart and Peter panicked trying to lift himself up and away from the older man's fingers, afraid of aggravating his already sore, abused rim. Tony held him down firmly, shushing the teen, trying to calm him.  
"Peter! It's ok, it's ok! I'm not going to hurt you, this is medicine," he said in a soothing voice.  
"Medicine?" Peter squeaked out.  
"Yes," Tony held up the tube for Peter to see. "It's triple antibiotic, it's to help you heal." Peter slowly relaxed and laid back down on the bed, watching warily. Tony smirked and said quietly, "I'm not _always_ an asshole. Just most of the time." He gently slathered the cream onto Peter's torn, abused hole, rubbing it in. Peter hissed at the feeling but appreciated the care.  
Tony reached back into the drawer to put the tube back and pulled out a small piece of blue plastic.  
"Open," he said quietly to the tired boy. Peter did as he was told and Tony slid the cool piece of plastic into his mouth o to his tongue. Peter closed his mouth around it and his face twisted up in confusion when he did. Tony laughed softly and pulled the comforter from under Peter, covering him with it.  
"It's nap time for sleepy boy. You'll need some extra rest for school tomorrow. That's your pacifier and you're going to leave it in," Tony instructed. "Good night, sweet boy."  
"G'night Daddy," Peter garbled through the pacifier. He was too tired to protest.  
Tony stood and blew out all the candles and quietly left the room, closing the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what does everyone think? Anything confusing at all? Suggestions on how to make things better or anything that just makes you crazy with irrational anger? Lol  
> I'd love to hear about it!


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sunday afternoon and evening through different people's perspectives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a little extra time to write because of the different approach i took and because a lot of personal things are happening and changing for me right now. I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as others in the past!  
> Also, I'd like to say that I do proofread my own work multiple times before posting but some things still slip by once posted. I try to fix them as I find them because I'm anal but I know there's still mistakes in there. Also, I apologise for every time my phone autocorrected "and" to "amd", as I do all my work on my phone and it hates me. Thanks! <3

James sat with his legs over the arm of his chair, trying to get back into his book but he couldn't stop thinking about what Tony was doing with Peter. He got up and turned the music off and paced a little. Tried to clean up in the mostly pristine already kitchen. Paced some more. He wondered if Tony was treating Peter to some of the amazing sex James knew he was capable of, or if something else was going on.  
It was none of his business of course, Tony closed the door for a reason. He was just a little worried about Peter. Only a little bit.  
He was sure that he'd be fine though, Peter was learning really quickly. Faster than he had himself, that's for sure. He glanced down at his left hand and decided to try reading again to take his mind off the young teen. If it _was_ his business, he'd have been asked to join them.  
Honestly, he was glad he didn't have to watch this time. It was hard for him to see Tony breaking the boy. He'd already been through that once. Not that that's what he assumed was happening.  
He opened his book back to the page he'd left off on and started back into it.  
Before he could really lose himself in the story of the Princess Buttercup and her beloved, Peter's shriek echoed long and loud down the silent hallway. James jumped up and quickly made his way toward the door, heart beating rapidly. He stopped a few feet away from the door and tried to decide what to do. He could hear Peter's sobs and knew that Tony was probably using him a little too roughly. He also knew that if he tried to interfere, Tony would have _him_ screaming like that. He paced in the hallway by Tony's bedroom door and churned his thoughts around in his head, anxiety churning his stomach, before deciding that he should just go back to what he'd been doing and mind his own business. Why was he even worried about Peter? The teen wasn't _his_ responsibility after all.  
He just had a little soft spot for Peter. He was so young and sweet and... _small_. Like he'd been when he'd first come here.  
Maybe that was it, James decided to himself. He felt like he needed to be Peter's protector because he hadn't had one when he'd first come here.  
But he knew he wasn't much of a protector. He'd never stop Tony when it came down to it. He feared the punishment too much. He knew what the man was capable of. He sadly sat back down in his armchair and cast his gaze out the window over the city.  
He was just a small thing, and looking out at the horizon made him feel even smaller. He could never be what he wished he could be. 

It had been almost two and a half hours since Tony had called Peter back to his bedroom when James heard the door open and close again softly. He saw Tony emerge from the hallway alone and offered a shy smile to the man.  
Tony looked pleased with himself and smiled lazily back at James.  
"Bucky baby," he said, voice quiet. "Or, should I call you James?” he smirked in the younger man's direction.  
James felt his face pale and his mouth went dry but he wasn't sure exactly why he was nervous. His icy blue eyes widened and he swallowed thickly but didn't respond, feeling small where he sat under the man's scrutiny.  
"It's ok baby, I'm not mad," Tony said in response to James' expression. "I'm just curious why you wanted him to call you that? Aside from the fact that it's your name of course," he tried to joke.  
James quickly thought up a response.  
"It was during our first time together. I asked him to call me James... W-when he came. I-I didn't think he'd keep calling me that," he lied.  
No way was he going to tell Tony that he wanted to feel like someone else. That he wanted to be someone different to this young boy than he was to Tony; a fearful little coward. He didn't say that he didn't want to be Bucky; Tony's pet anymore. No way was he going to tell the truth.  
Ok, so he _did_ know why he was nervous.  
Tony hummed, apparently satisfied with that answer. He walked toward the kitchen to start another pot of coffee and James let out a silent sigh of relief.  
He glanced back at the hallway, then sheepishly asked, "where's Peter?”  
_Is he ok?_ He didn't ask out loud.  
"Sleeping," Tony responded, taking a sip from his mug. "He's a little tuckered out so he's taking a nap." He peeked at James over the rim of his mug.  
"Taken a liking to the new pet, huh?" He teased. James blushed.  
"He's nice..." James responded dumbly. Playing dumb had gotten him far over the years. He opened his book and pretended to cast his attention to it, hoping Tony wouldn't press much more.  
"Hmmm," Tony hummed, quirking his eyebrow and taking another sip, then setting his mug down. "Seems like it might be a little more than that." He locked eyes on James and James locked his gaze onto his book, sweating and avoiding, toes curling in his socks. Tony peered at him for another moment before he walked around the bar and made his way into the open living room, sitting comfortably on the couch. His gaze never left James and James' heart raced.  
"Sweetheart?”  
James reluctantly made eye contact with the older man.  
"It's not more than that, is it? I don't want you getting too attached. Pets don't have pets."  
James shook his head vigorously.  
"No Daddy! I mean, I just _like_ him," he responded, trying not to answer too quickly. They locked gazes for a minute before James felt confident enough to ask, "how do you _want_ me to feel about him, Daddy?” in a small voice.  
Tony's lips curled up into a grin at the question and he rubbed his chin thoughtfully before he answered.  
"Thank you for asking. I think you should love and care for him. Like a little brother," Tony thought for a moment more. "But like, a little brother that you get to fuck sometimes when Daddy says it's ok." Tony chuckled.  
"Boy, that's fucked up, huh?” he laughed. James didn't respond. Tony went on after a moment.  
"I want you to _love_ him, but not fall _in love_ with him." He nodded to himself, having thought up the perfect way to describe what he wanted. "I'll let you know if I change my mind," he added absently.  
"Yes Daddy," James responded appropriately. Tony stretched and laid across the couch.  
"Maybe we should all take a nap?" Tony said to no one in particular. James nodded obediently and waited for the instructions he knew were to come. Tony crooked his fingers at James and he immediately stood, taking a step forward to cross the living room.  
"Crawl," Tony said, voice bored. James blushed but did as he was told, dropping to his hands and knobby knees and crawling toward him across the rug.  
Tony smiled and hummed, watching James fight against his shame. When he did make it across the floor, James waited patiently at the side of the couch for further instructions. Tony enjoyed making him wait, then finally patted his thigh in invitation to James. The smaller man slowly crawled up onto the couch, settling himself between Tony's legs and laying his head down on his stomach. Tony wrapped his arm around James' shoulders and played with his hair with the other hand.  
"Good boy," he mumbled before falling into sleep.

 

Tony had had a pretty great childhood. He was an only child with well off parents, a huge beautiful home. He was homeschooled and had people payed to help him with his homework but he was smart enough that he didn't need them. He had practically no rules or chores around his house and he even had a dog. He didn't have much he could complain about, aside from the fact that his parents were gone often and he was a lonely child. They weren't mean or neglectful, they just lead a busy, traveling kind of life.  
He'd tried to get his nanny to play out in the garden with him on a pretty regular basis but she never played for long. None of the other staff would either, they were all either too busy or too old.  
As he grew older, he started riding his shiny red bike farther and farther from his stately home, searching for ways to entertain himself. He started off going to the library. He was always a smart child so he was just drawn to books from the beginning. He'd happily cart his wagon behind his bike to tote all of his selections home with him and he was so quiet and polite that the librarians adored him.  
He'd been going to the library steadily for probably a year or two and was around seven years old when he grew bored of the same old stories about heroism and friendship and started wishing for friends of his own. He began riding farther past the library to the local park at the middle of town. His parents didn't often take him to the park so he'd sit back and watch the other children play and interact together.  
He started going there nearly every day, exploring the areas around the playground. He'd found the perfect tree to climb and sit in while he watched the other children. He'd bring snacks and a little notepad to draw in and of course books, and would observe their play.  
One day, an older boy happened to be at the same park. He was packing up to go home after a game of frisbee with friends and noticed Tony happily playing by himself. He decided to walk over and see what the little boy was doing alone.  
"Hey kid," he said once he'd gotten close enough. Tony jerked at the voice, lost in his own pretend world.  
"Oh, hey," he'd responded, voice sounding a little hopeful.  
"What are you doing out here alone, kid? Shouldn't you be getting home soon?" Tony looked around and the sky was starting to change colors to signify the day coming to a close.  
"Mm, I guess so," he said, giving a shrug of his little shoulders.  
"Don't you have any friends? I see you here all the time," the older boy asked. His hair was a reddish brown and Tony thought it kind of looked like a penny if it was dirty. His cheeks stained pink and his eye brows rose up his forehead as he replied, "sometimes kids talk to me but no one's really my friend." The older boy looked empathetic.  
"You can be one of my friends. My name's Oliver," he offered.  
A wide grin spread across Tony's young face. "Really? That would be so great!" He beamed. Oliver laughed and they made plans to meet again at the park the next day. Oliver could teach Tony to play Frisbee.

They started meeting a few times a week to play together and with Oliver's other friends. They were all around fourteen and fifteen years old, so they liked to play sports like football and soccer too. Tony was glad to have found friends that actually wanted to spend time with him and have him on their teams.  
Once it started getting colder, the boys started meeting less and less frequently and Tony was worried about losing his new-found buddies. Oliver reassured him that they would get together sometimes at each other's houses to play games. He said most often they'd be at _his_ house because his parents were gone a lot, and that Tony was welcome to join them. Tony was ecstatic and they quickly made plans to meet at Oliver's house.  
That Saturday, Tony showed up at the address he'd written down on his shiny red bike with a couple chocolate bars and some action figures in a little pack on his back. He was excited to play video games with a partner for once and he quickly knocked on the door. Oliver had opened the door and invited him in, leading him to a big game room that was all his own. There was a large tv set up with a game console attached on the wall and a pinball machine in the corner.  
"Woah!" Tony shouted in amazement.  
There was a big music tower that was filled with cassettes and huge speakers, bean bag chairs and a lava lamp. Oliver offered him a slice of pizza and soda and they turned on the console.  
After a while Tony started to wonder when all the other boys would show up.  
"Oh, they're not coming, they had other plans," Oliver said, not taking his eyes off the 8 bit graphics on the screen. Tony nodded and went back to the game.  
Once they'd gotten bored and had their fill of pizza, the boys decided to do something else.  
"Why don't we play truth or dare?" Oliver suggested.  
"Ok, I've never played that before," Tony had agreed.  
"You go first, truth or dare?"  
"Mm, truth I guess," Tony said.  
"Ok, have you ever cheated on a test?"  
"No, I don't need to," Tony replied. "Ok, truth or dare?"  
"Um, I guess dare," Oliver chose. Tony laughed.  
"Ummm, ok, you have to hop on one foot and cluck like a chicken!"  
He was in hysterics watching the older boy do it. Oliver sat back down laughing.  
"Ok Tony, truth or dare?"  
Tony paused for a moment, then said "dare!” excitedly.  
Oliver stroked his chin thoughtfully before he responded.  
"I dare you...to kiss me!"  
Tony looked at Oliver in confusion but just laughed out "what?"  
"It's a dare, you gotta do it!" Oliver pressed with a laugh.  
"That's weird!" Tony said. "Isn't it?"  
"No way! All good friends kiss sometimes!" The older boy assured. Tony still wasn't sure but decided, if all friends do it, then he should too.  
He leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on Oliver's cheek.  
"Nuh uh, it has to be on the lips or it doesn't count!" Oliver pressed. Tony's little tummy rolled with unease but he didn't want to risk losing his only friend, so he closed his eyes and leaned forward. Oliver quickly leaned in, pressing his mouth harshly against Tony's, almost painfully. He grabbed the back of Tony's hair and held him in place, licking at Tony's lips clumsily.  
Tony shoved Oliver away.  
"Hey!" He shouted angrily, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "what are you doing?" He jumped up in surprise.  
"Relax, Tony! That's just what friends do!" Oliver said, standing up too. "If you don't want to be friends then fine, go home!" He stated, sounding like he didn't care one way or another what Tony did.  
Tony's eyes went wide with surprise, and a little bit of panic.  
"Wait, I _do_ want to be your friend!" Tony cried. Oliver crossed his arms over his chest and shifted his weight. "Well then you have to do _friend_ things! And you can't tell anyone about it, it's only between us!”  
Tony nodded vigorously, squeaking out "ok, fine!", reluctantly. 

Tony had gone home that night quieter and with a stomach ache. He didn't greet any of the staff working in his home like he usually did, going straight to his room to be alone. He didn't come out again until the next morning.  
He still accepted invitations to Oliver's house a few times a week because he was lonely. For a while, there weren't any other incidents like that. 

One day in December, he invited Tony for a movie party sleepover. Tony showed up at seven with his sleeping bag, pajamas and toothpaste, and some of the other boys were there already. They all wrestled and had pillow fights and ate sugary treats until the movie at 9, complete with tons of popcorn. It was some campy movie about ninjas that all the boys chuckled about until it was over at almost 11. Some of the boys fell asleep on the floor where they lay and others were ready to turn in, having crashed from all the sugar. They all got their sleeping bags, pillows and blankets out and lay them all around the game room floor, since it was bigger than Oliver's bedroom. They talked quietly until each of them fell asleep. Oliver had made his bed near Tony's and he was the last one awake. He quietly reached out and unzipped Tony's sleeping bag, reaching inside and touching Tony over his pajamas gently. When Tony didn't wake, he searched out the elastic waistband of his fleece pants with his skinny fingers and carefully reached inside, running his hands over Tony's most private places. The young boy jumped awake at the feeling and sucked in a deep breath to yell out but Oliver clamped his hand tightly over Tony's mouth before he could make a sound. He leaned in close to his ear and whispered, "It's ok! It's me, Oliver! Don't scream or you'll wake everyone else up."  
Tony bit back his screams and grabbed Oliver's wrist, trying to remove his cold, unpleasant fingers.  
"Tony, it's ok, it's just a _friend_ thing," he said again. "If you make a noise I'm gonna kick your ass and you're never gonna be allowed over here again. _I'm serious,_ "  
Tony choked back a whimper and let it happen. It wasn't for very long but it was long enough that Tony felt sick and couldn't sleep.  
He waited for Oliver to fall asleep and snuck to the bathroom with his sleeping bag, locking the door and laying in the bathtub with the curtain drawn. As soon as morning came, he was out the door and heading home on his little red bike.  
Over the next year and a half, there were a few more incidents progressively becoming more and more invasive until Tony decided being alone was better than Oliver making him feel so awful.  
He started to be withdrawn and lash out at the people around him. He often was angry and no one knew why. He started to try to control things and he had nightmares a few nights a week. His caretakers, and parents when they were around, assumed he was angry that he didn't get time with his mother and father often.  
They started trying to make an effort to do more with him but he was just so angry and introverted and unsociable. He had problems making friends as he grew up, having trouble trusting people, and no one to share his terrible secret with. Every time he thought about what Oliver had done to him he was filled with rage and a feeling of helplessness all over again. He spent a lot of his free time working out, determined to never feel powerless again.  
He eventually learned how to manage social settings and people but he was never quite the same sweet person as before. He had a temper that could be flipped at the slightest inconvenience and spent much of his time in sadness.

Eventually he decided he was ready to explore physical relationships when he was around nineteen, seeking out strangers in crowded bars and online hookups. Most of them didn't work out very well because Tony couldn't relinquish control in any situation. He didn't want to let anyone take charge and most didn't like being manhandled and treated so coldly by him.  
He realized that his best chances were to seek out people known as submissives, thinking he'd have the most success with someone that didn't _want_ the control. Over the years he tried his hand at dominance and it's role in his relationships, no matter how fleeting. He enjoyed the feeling of it but it never seemed to last. Submissives were only submissive in bed and sometimes in public. He wanted the power _all_ the time.  
He spent most of his nights alone, never really committing to any of the young men or women that he invited into his bed and he still had nightmares. Tony's dreams were usually dark, replaying visions of pain and fear.  
He still was just a small, innocent boy, being pinned by a cruel red-haired manipulative jerk, choking back his frightened sobs and struggling to break free. He could still hear Oliver's wicked laughter echoing in his ears, telling him that bad things would happen if he ever told. It had been a long time since he'd had one of those dreams.

 

His mind replayed the indecent touches and coercion with more detail than he wanted to admit he remembered. He could almost feel the rough hands holding his arms down on the ground, fingers digging into his skin.  
Tony's breathing increased in fear and he broke out into a cold sweat, limbs jerking at the phantom feeling of someone holding him down.  
He felt like he was suffocating, drowning in pain and hatred and he was overwhelmed with a powerful rage. He let out a ferocious shout and shoved the red-headed boy off of him, sending him flying with a yelp of pain. He bolted upright, trying to regain his bearings in the bright late afternoon light but when he looked around him it wasn't the large game room filled with haunted memories of his childhood that the light was shining in, it was his beautiful, state of the art home. He heaved huge breaths, sweating and trying to calm his nerves after the nightmare.  
He heard faint sobbing from the floor beneath him and realized with a start that it wasn't the red haired jerk from years ago that he'd thrown off of him but poor Bucky.  
He hurriedly leapt to the floor and saw the man curled on his hands and knees clutching his head in his hands as he rocked himself back and forth slowly.  
"Fuck, Bucky I'm so sorry, _shit_ ," he scrambled to lift the younger from the floor and onto the couch to assess his wounds. Bucky quietly sobbed, pupils dilated in his lapis blue eyes, blood staining his fingers. He peered quietly back at Tony through his fingers, afraid to uncurl his body from it's defensive position. Tony looked back to where Bucky had landed and saw a splatter of blood on the edge of the coffee table, realizing that he must have thrown the man straight at the solid wooden fixture.  
"Oh _Jesus_ , honey, I am _SO_ sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you, let me look at it," Tony babbled, quickly running to the kitchen for a hand towel and running back to James. He still hadn't stopped clutching his forehead, rocking himself slowly back and forth still.  
"C'mon Buck, let me see it sweetheart," Tony gently coaxed, firmly gripping the youngers' hands and trying to pry them away. Finally Bucky relented and slowly lowered his hands.  
His temple was gashed open to the middle of his forehead and blood poured down all around his left eye as soon as his hands let off the pressure. Tony cursed again and pressed the towel to the wound.  
"Keep pressing on that baby, I'll be right back," he called, already halfway down the hallway. He came back a minute later with an arm full of first aid supplies and he began pouring peroxide onto another white towel.  
"Here baby," he said, guilt evident in his face and body language as he gently dabbed away the blood to reveal the large cut. Bucky sobbed quietly to himself the whole time, tears streaking through the blood that poured down his face.  
"It's just bleeding so much because it's a head wound," Tony said, mostly trying to convince himself.  
"I'm so sorry, baby. This was all Daddy's fault, I'm so sorry," he apologized profusely, genuinely sorrowful. He quickly cleaned him up and bandaged the gash once the blood slowed down, then left to retrieve his favorite stuffy from his bed for him.  
When he came back, he lifted the man onto his lap and held him while he calmed down, rocking and shushing him gently. He kept replaying in his mind the moment when he'd launched the red-haired boy in his dream and knew he must have really thrown Bucky hard. He gently placed his fingers under the youngers chin and lifted his face up to look at his eyes again. His pupils were still dilated, his left more than his right and the bleeding was already starting to seep through the bandages.  
"Daddy, I didn't mean to be a bad boy," Bucky said, voice quiet and confused sounding. "I'm sorry for whatever I did."  
Tony felt a wave of guilt wash over him and squeezed James gently in his arms.  
"You didn't do anything sweetheart, this was Daddy's fault," he repeated. "I think you might have a mild concussion and I think you need stitches," he said in a calm voice, trying not to alarm the younger man. Bucky looked up at Tony, glacier blue eyes wide. "Do I have to go to the hospital?" He asked, clutching his gray wolf toy tighter to his chest.  
"Uhhh," Tony swallowed, "we can't really do that, sugar pop. They would ask for your papers. Too many questions."  
Bucky looked relieved that he didn't have to go but upset that he couldn't get treated. His cut started seeping blood through the bandages and dripping down the side of his face. Tony nervously dabbed it off and made a decision. He handed the towel to Bucky and told him to hold pressure on the wound until he could come back, quickly walking down the hall to his bedroom. He clicked on the small lamp on the nightstand and opened the drawer, rummaging in the very back of it until he found a cell phone.  
Peter had startled awake when Tony had turned on the light and peered at him through bleary sleepy eyes. Tony glanced over and saw him still obediently clutching the little blue pacifier between his lips and smiled despite the situation, carding his fingers through his nap curls. He clicked on the power to his cell and waited for the screen to turn on, absentmindedly caressing Peter's cheek with the back of his fingers as he waited.  
"I need you to wake up and get dressed, baby breath. Bucky's got a little boo boo right now," he said distractedly, popping the binki from the teens' mouth and dropping it on the top of the nightstand. He started scrolling through his contacts now that his phone was finally on and clicked one of the icons, turning and walking toward the large attached bathroom and closing the door quietly behind him.  
Peter groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes, stretching out. He looked around and realized that he didn't have any clothes to wear so he slid from the bed and headed to the small closet that housed Bucky's clothes, assuming he wouldn't mind if he borrowed something.  
He found a soft gray long sleeved shirt that fit him loosely and a pair of comfortable black sweatpants at the bottom of the drawer, buried under all the expensive looking jeans. He quickly pulled them on and they barely clung to his boney hips. James was thicker than Peter but not quite as thick as Tony.  
He heard snippets of Tony's conversation through the bathroom door and tried not to eavesdrop as he dressed and pulled himself together.  
_"Hey!... Yeah, it's been a while.... need a little help... Yeah, he's... boyfriend.... think he... stitches... come over soon?... bleeding a lot... Ok, thanks a lot, see you soon."_  
Peter jumped and quickly scurried to sit on the edge of the bed to wait like he hadn't been listening. He wondered why James was bleeding so bad that he'd need stitches but decided it was best not to say anything until Tony did.  
The bathroom door opened and Tony stepped out, meeting Peter's warm honey gaze but he looked like he was seeing through him. He didn't disguise the scowl on his face at the sight of the sweatpants but he also didn't say anything about them. He ran his fingers through his hair and let out an exasperated sigh before his eyes focused on Peter.  
"I need your help with Bucky, let's go," he stated flatly, opening the door and ushering Peter out.  
Peter jumped up right away and hurriedly did as he was told, walking quickly through the door to the living room. As he approached he could see James slumped over on the couch clutching his head in his hands. He scanned the room quickly and saw that there wasn't anything out of place, only noticing the splatter of blood on the coffee table as he got closer. Icy fear sliced through his veins and he braced himself as he reached James.  
He could see that the man's long fingers were spattered with blood through the towel and it was smeared around his forehead messily. He gingerly reached out and touched James' forearm.  
James slowly lifted his head up to peer through slitted eyes at the teen. His gaze looked unfocused and his skin was a pallid sickly color, damp with sweat, but he gave Peter a weak smile when he realized who he was looking at.  
Tony scooted around the boys to sit next to Bucky on the couch again and he gently pulled him into a laying position, applying pressure on the towel again.  
"Pete, I need you to get me another towel please," he said absently, trying to dab as much of the blood as he could. Peter ran back to the bathroom to retrieve one and quickly hurried back with it, kneeling on the floor again and offering it to Tony. Tony traded the clean one for the bloody one and held it to Bucky's head, not noticing the way Peter's face paled at the feeling of the warm wet towel shoved into his hand. Peter froze and couldn't take his eyes off the towel for a minute, hand beginning to shake.  
"Pete honey, do me a favor and wipe that blood off the table if you can," Tony asked without looking away from Bucky. Peter swallowed thickly and nodded silently, slowly turning and trying to use the towel to wipe at the spot. At first it just smeared around but after a minute it started wiping off, much to Peter's relief. Peter was starting to feel queazy the longer he held the towel. He could feel the extra weight of the blood and felt it cooling in his hands. Finally, he peeped out, "daddy?" In a tiny voice, tears springing up in his eyes. Tony looked up then and noticed Peter holding the towel at arms length, clearly uncomfortable.  
"I'm sorry sweetheart, go put that in the kitchen sink," he instructed.  
Peter quickly stood and practically sprinted to go put it down in the double sink and wash the drying blood off his hands.  
"Grab him a glass off water while you're out there, please?" Tony called. Peter thought it might be the most polite he'd heard Tony without it sounding like a threat. "Yes Daddy," he quietly responded.  
Tony took the cup from Peter when he got back to the couch and gently held it to James' lips. After he'd taken a drink he'd set the cup on the coffee table and addressed both the boys.  
"A colleague of mine will be here soon to help with this," he gestured absently to James, "and I need the two of you to be on your best behavior. For the time being, don't call me Daddy. And, just try to let me do the talking. I don't want him asking questions, he's already going to have enough just from you being here," he gestured at Peter with his chin. Peter's heart spiked at the knowledge that someone else would be there with them but he tried not to look too hopeful. He stood up and his borrowed sweatpants slid down his narrow hips. He tugged them back up but Tony decided to say something about them finally.  
"Take those fucking things off, they're disgusting," his face grew stormy, not holding back his anger. "Put on some fucking denim, _now_ ," he commanded, pointing Peter down the hall. "Y-yes... _Sir_?" He replied, quickly heading back down the hallway to change.

Tony let out an exasperated sigh and rubbed his temple, watching Peter quickly shuffle down the hallway, closing the door behind him. The last thing in the world he wanted was someone coming into his home _now_. Bucky wouldn't be a problem, he was barely talking as it was. But Peter still wasn't trained and had a hell of a lot of fight left in him. Tony worried he might be a problem. Before he could try to think of a solution, he heard the lobby buzzer go off, signaling that his guest had arrived. Tony's heart gave an extra strong thump in his chest and he breathed deeply, steeling his nerves as he buzzed him in. It would be a minute before the elevator reached the top floor. Tony leaned down and whispered to Bucky, "be a good boy baby. Daddy's gonna make sure you're all better soon."  
A moment later, the elevator doors dinged open and a familiar face stepped into the flat. He looked about the same since the last time Tony had seen him, he was about four or five inches shorter than Tony's own six foot one and he was thin-ish. His dark hair was short and curly, going gray at the temples moreso than Tony was. He wore a light gray button up shirt that was rolled up to his elbows and black dress pants pulled up high on his svelte waist. If Tony didn't have a thing for sweet young men, he'd probably have been attracted to the man, but he was closer to his own age and Tony had no interest.  
"Tony!" the man's face lit up when he saw him.  
"Bruce!" Tony returned, slowly standing from the couch to greet him, hand outstretched. Bruce reached to shake his offered hand then quickly decided against it at the sight of the all the blood dried on it.  
"Jesus, Tony what happened?" He asked, awkward smile on his face. Tony hadn't seen the man in a few years, since they'd shared his lab for some project for the same company. They'd really gotten along well at the time, and Tony was surprised by how smart the man was while also being introverted. Most of their colleagues were boisterous and loved to show off how smart they were.  
"My, uh _boyfriend_ had a bit of an accident. We've been trying to get the bleeding to stop. It's slowed down a bit now." Bruce walked past Tony to where Bucky lay on the couch and knelt down in front of him, setting down a small leather bag on the floor next to him. He reached for Bucky's hand that held the towel and gently pulled it away from his face.  
"Let's see what we got here, sweetheart," Bruce said absently, focusing on the source of the blood. He didn't notice the way Tony bristled and the way his jaw muscle twitched at the use of the pet name. Bruce gently brushed some of the hair that matted to Bucky's forehead away from the gash to get a better look at it, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and leaning close.  
"Boy, that's a deep one," Bruce remarked. He reached into his bag, pulling out a pair of medical gloves and pulling them on, and some antiseptic wipes which he placed on the arm of the couch by Bucky's head.  
"How long ago did this happen?" He asked, looking up to Tony.  
"It's been about an hour now. I had a bandaid on it but it just seeped right through," he responded. Bruce hummed low in his throat as he decided what to do first.  
"He's probably lost a lot of blood. Why didn't you take him to a hospital already?" He asked, pulling a small cylinder flashlight from his bag.  
"He hates hospitals," Tony answered immediately. "Won't step foot in one."  
"Hmm. Sometimes you just have to be the adult in a situation," Bruce responded quietly. Tony's hands clenched and unclenched a few times before he responded. It was definitely a dig.  
There had been some backlash amongst Tony's peers when they learned that Tony had taken such a young lover so many years ago. None of them knew that he'd literally _taken_ him. Bruce had never really accepted it or approved and it was one thing they'd never agreed on.  
" _Yeah,_ " was all Tony said in response, trying to control his anger.  
Bruce gently pulled James' eye lids open and shined the light in each.  
"Definitely a concussion," Bruce stated.  
"There's not much I can do for him. I'll stitch up that gash but he needs to take it easy and rest until he's healed. He's lost a lot of blood so you'll have to make sure that he stays hydrated and gets plenty of rest." He looked up at Tony.  
Tony's face bunched up in an expression that suggested slight disgust.  
"Is he going to have a scar?" His nose wrinkled as he said the word. Bruce snorted and looked at him incredulously.  
"He might, Tony. He sliced his head open and lost most of the blood in his body but hey, the worst part is he _might_ have a scar on his pretty little face, right?" Bruce scoffed, barely refraining from rolling his eyes as he turned back to Bucky. Tony was barely holding back his temper at this point.  
"What can I say, I'm a vain bastard," he seethed out quietly, trying to keep his voice down for Bucky's sake.  
"How can you stand this guy," Bruce joked to Bucky, touching above his cut gently. Bucky didn't respond, just gazed through his foggy blue eyes at Bruce.  
The sound of a door quietly closing down the hall caught Bruce and Tony's attention and they turned their heads to see Peter emerging from Tony's bedroom.  
"Oh, hey," Peter said shyly as he walked back toward the living room. Bruce's eyes went wide and his jaw dropped slightly. He turned his head slowly up to Tony.  
" _Tony, you DIDN'T,_ " he said in a shocked voice. "He's just a _baby_! Is he even out of _high school_?" His face was one of disbelieving shock.  
"Oh, I'm almo-" Peter started but Tony quickly cut him off.  
"He's a friend of Bucky's!" He said loudly, "He's just here visiting," Tony sent a pointed look at Peter that Bruce didn't miss. Bruce scoffed.  
"You're unbelievable, Tony. Are you-" he lowered his voice to just above a whisper- " _FUCKING him?!_ "  
"Listen, can we just sew up my boy here? He's bleeding to death and you're letting him and that's not really very professional." Tony effectively drew the attention away from Peter. Bruce let out a sigh and turned his attention back to Bucky.  
"I'm sorry sweetheart, let's get this taken care of."  
Tony cleared his throat and fidgeted his hands for a minute, deciding if he should say his thoughts out loud. He decided he should.  
"Bruce, stop calling him sweetheart," he said in a low voice. Peter recognized the voice as the one Tony used just before he lost his patience and he quietly went to sit down in Bucky's armchair, out of the way.  
Bruce was pulling some individually wrapped sterile tools from his bag and was setting them up on the couch beside the antiseptic wipes. "Relax, Daddy Controlio, I'm not trying to steal him away from you," he replied distractedly, setting up his tools. Peter could see the vein in Tony's temple throbbing from across the room and swallowed down a lump of anxiety. Bruce had no idea what kind of explosives he was playing with. He'd only seen Tony this angry once and he still had the welts across his ass to prove it.  
He decided to intervene before anything got worse.  
"Tony!" Peter practically shouted, jumping up from the chair. Tony looked at Peter with a face that didn't disguise his dislike of being called by his first name and Peter gathered his courage to continue. "C-Can I get you a cup of coffee?" He suggested, nervously shifting his weight from foot to foot. Tony's expression softened.  
"That's a good idea, kid," he conceded. Peter rushed past Bruce and James, gently touching the top of James' head subconsciously as he did.  
"What about you, doctor...?"  
"Banner, Bruce Banner," he replied, not looking up. "Sure, I'd love a cup," he answered. Tony joined Peter in the open kitchen, gathering cups and pulling the sugar bowl from the cabinet as Peter scooped some grounds into a filter and poured water into the tank of the machine. Tony glanced over at the couch and Bruce had started stitching, forceps, tweezers and a long curved needle in his gloved fingers. He leaned over closer to Peter.  
"Good thinking, kid," he said quietly. "I was about to lose my mind," he admitted. Peter shyly smiled up at him, trying to keep his gaze from lingering in the presence of the doctor. Tony's hand gently grazed his ass as he pretended to reach past him for a towel hanging from the drawer. Peter blushed and waited for the coffee to finish brewing.  
He reached into the cabinet and pulled down a third cup for himself as the coffee finished with a hiss.  
"You're not having coffee, it's almost dinner time and you have school tomorrow." Tony said quietly to the teen, trying to keep the conversation between the two of them. Peter stuck his bottom lip out and pouted at Tony but he reluctantly put his mug back in the cabinet. Tony barely stopped himself from praising "good boy". Instead he glanced over Peter's shoulder at the couch again and his gaze met Bruce's watchful eyes.  
Bruce held Tony's gaze for a moment before he said, "sugar please?"  
Tony nodded his head and made a "tch" sound through his teeth, scooping some sugar into both mugs and stirring. Peter took one and headed back to the sofa to hand it to the doctor.  
Bruce had finished stitching James' forehead and was gathering his tools back into his bag, having taken the gloves off. "Thanks," he said, graciously accepting the hot mug and taking a sip.  
"Seven stitches. He's probably got a nasty headache, ibuprofen or Motrin are fine. Lots of rest, fluids. It's safe for him to sleep now. He's lucky he didn't lose too much blood-" he threw a glance at Tony again as he said it-"but he should be fine." He took another sip from the coffee then set the mug on the coffee table.  
"Mind showing me to the restroom?" He asked Peter. "Gotta wash my hands." Peter nodded and started toward the hallway.  
"Why don't I take you back there?" Tony interjected before they could get too far.  
"It's no problem Tony, why don't you check on your boy?" Bruce stated calmly, walking toward the hallway as well. Tony looked a little ruffled and shot a warning look Peter's way. Peter didn't miss it. Neither did Bruce.  
Peter lead Bruce into Tony's room and toward the bathroom, gesturing his arm out for him.  
"Right there," he said in a quiet voice, turning to go back. Before he could take a step, Bruce held his hand up between them to stop him.  
"Wait a second, Peter, please," Bruce said quietly, glancing over his shoulder at the door.  
"Are you-is this-is he-" he stuttered over his words. "Are you safe here?" He finally managed to get out, voice just above a whisper. Peters eyes went wide and he looked at the door, swallowing hard.  
Bruce leaned in closer. "You can tell me," he said, "If there's anything going on that you don't like, you can tell me," he pressed. Peter sucked his lip between his teeth and fidgeted with the sleeves of his shirt, not answering or meeting his eyes. He _wanted_ to tell Bruce everything, but he was worried that if he told Bruce, he wouldn't be able to get James out too. His heart rate sped up and he started to sweat at his own inner turmoil.  
Bruce tried again, leaning farther into Peter's personal space. "Is he _touching_ you?” his voice was barely audible. Peter shivered, then an idea hit him. He didn't have to _tell_ Bruce anything. He quickly looked back to the doorway and made sure no one was there before reaching up and sliding his finger into his collar. He looked Bruce in the eyes to make sure he was paying attention and pulled his shirt down his chest, revealing dark bruises, angry scratches and bite marks littering his porcelain skin. Bruce's eyes went wide and he sucked in a breath, whispering out " _Jesus Christ_ ".  
Peter quickly released his collar and pulled the hem of his shirt up with a barely audible whimper, pulling the waistband of his jeans down and showing Bruce the deep thumb print bruises on his hips and the long finger shaped bruises that wrapped around; perfect picture of his rough treatment.  
The older man's face took on an angry expression but before he could say anything, Peter quickly held his hands up, shaking his head with a look of panic on his face, hoping the man would understand. He gestured to his forehead, running his finger in a slicing motion across his temple and pointing toward the living room. Bruce gave a nod of understanding, though his face suggested he didn't quite understand it all.  
"Peter!" Tony called loudly from the living room. Peter jumped, eyes going wide again and he looked at Bruce, motioning his finger in the classic librarian "shush" position, then quickly ran to go back to the living room, leaving a stunned and angry Bruce behind.

Bruce stood in the dark bedroom for a moment trying to process what he'd just seen and how to handle the situation in the best way before he finally went into the bathroom to wash the blood from his skin. He quickly took his business card and stuck it into the pocket of his dress shirt before heading back toward the living room.

Peter quickly ran back to Tony, who was kneeling over James on the couch. James had fallen asleep and was resting peacefully.  
Tony looked up with a glint of anger in his eyes and stood to meet Peter. Peter tried to keep his fear from showing on his face as he closed the distance between them.  
"What took you so long?" Tony asked, quietly but angrily. Peter swallowed, trying to think something up quick.  
"Well I-I just-" Tony cut him off, reaching his hand out faster than Peter could think and tightly gripped his skinny throat, lifting him until his toes barely reached the ground. Peter made a choked sound and his hands flew up to grab Tony's wrists. Tony squeezed his throat harder and gave him a violent shake, pulling his face closer.  
"You'd better let go of me, Peter. And I swear, if you told him _anything_ I will beat your ass for the next week," he seethed. Peter vehemently shook his head, voice high pitched and strained as he squeaked out, "no Daddy! I swear! I didn't!" Tears sprang to his eyes and black spots started blooming in his vision. He reluctantly let go of Tony's wrists, still clinging to his sleeves. Tony squeezed harder and Peter tried to cry out but it was cut off in his throat. "Please Daddy," he forced out, voice hoarse. "I promise," he felt his body starting to grow limp.  
"You better not have," Tony growled low in his chest.

Bruce started coming down the hallway, still preoccupied with the marks Peter had shown him when he glanced up and stopped in his tracks.  
"...I swear, if you told him anything I will beat your ass for the next week," he barely heard Tony say. His blood boiled in his veins, watching the young man struggling and squirming in the air at the hands of the older man.  
"Please Daddy," the poor teen sounded pitiful.  
_Wait, daddy?_ Bruce was kidding when he'd said it earlier. He didn't realize that it was actually what they called him. He was disgusted by man's level of depravity. He watched Tony drop the boy back to his feet and Peter stumbled, catching himself from falling completely onto the ground at the last moment by gripping Tony's waist and peering up at him as he stood back up. Tony looked down on him with a sadistic smirk on his face as he watched.  
Bruce's jaw twitched as he clenched his teeth together and he cleared his throat loudly, pretending he hadn't seen what he'd just witnessed, rolling his sleeves back down.  
Tony looked up, eyes dark as he watched Bruce walk down the hallway buttoning his cuffs.  
"So Tony," he called loudly as he entered the room.  
"What exactly happened to your boy there? Seven stitches and all that blood, it's pretty gnarly," he came to a stop a few feet from where Peter stood and met Tony's angry face with his own serious look. He could hear Peter panting lightly, no doubt still trying to catch his breath and he could see the fresh red marks circling his throat. The boy was shaking and his eyes looked glazed and unfocused and it infuriated Bruce more.  
"He fell," Tony said simply, voice hard.  
"Yeah? From the roof or like, over and over again?" Bruce pressed.  
" _Don't worry about it, Bruce_ " Tony said menacingly, clenching his fists.  
Peter's eyes went wide, silently pleading with Bruce to drop it.  
"It's always so nice to see you Tony," Bruce responded sarcastically, picking up his medical bag from the floor. He slowly made his way over to the elevator and looked back. Tony openly watched him and Peter fearfully watched from the corner of his eye. Bruce stopped near a shelf that held decorations and knick knacks and slyly brought his hand to his shirt pocket and lowered it onto the shelf. He hoped Peter caught the move as he hid his card with his number in plain sight. "Make sure he drinks a lot of fluids. Sugary, juice," he said as he pushed the button for the elevator. The doors dinged open and Bruce stepped on, turning and staring intently at Tony as the doors closed on him.

Bruce sighed exasperatedly as soon as the doors closed and scrubbed his fingers through his hair. He hated leaving such vulnerable boys with Tony but he knew he'd never win against him if he tried to physically fight him, and if he threatened getting the police involved, who knew what would happen to them. He'd have to figure out a way to get help without involving the police and he'd have to do it soon. He didn't know if Tony was aware that he'd witnessed Peter's abuse but he hoped he didn't know. It was safer for Peter and Bucky that way.  
He was a few floors down when he heard a high pitched shriek from above him that made his blood curdle. He shuddered and made the decision to find someone that night to help him.

Tony watched the elevator doors close and immediately spun toward Peter, rage evident in his features. Peter gulped and took an unconscious step backwards, drawing his shoulders together and curling his body into himself with a whimper.  
"D-d-da-" Peter tried to stutter out, trembling, eyes wide. Tony broke into a run at him before he could say anything. Peter let out a shriek and ran, turning toward Tony's room. He knew he didn't have anywhere to run to, but he couldn't just stand there.  
"Come here, you little shit," Tony snarled out. He could feel the tips of Tony's fingers gripping at his shirt as he closed the distance easily. He ducked and slipped, sliding and using the floor to propel himself forward. He made it into the doorway and reached to close the door but Tony was right behind him. He collided into the door before it could fully close with a roar, slamming it into Peter and sending him flying into the end of the bed and crashing to the floor with a yelp. The blow knocked the air from Peter's lungs and he didn't have enough time to get himself off the floor and moving again before Tony was on him.  
His fingers were like claws, gripping and ripping at Peter's shirt, yanking him up off the floor.  
" _Please-_ " Peter struggled to wheeze out, lungs like they were filled with burning concrete. He gripped at Tony's hands and Tony lifted him from the floor and threw him onto the bed.  
" _You little brat._ What did you tell him?" He demanded, stalking to the side of the bed with his hands clenched into fists. Silent tears ran from the corners of Peter's eyes as he desperately tried to pull himself into a sitting position. He struggled to take a breath and his spine burned from the force of the blow from the door. He shook his head vehemently, mouth forming the word "please" over and over again. Tony seized Peter's shirt again and yanked him back up. He looked like a little ragdoll in Tony's hands.  
"I _know_ you told him something, what did you tell him!?" He shouted. Peter sobbed, mouthing "I promise, I promise," as he continued to shake his head. Tony gave him a hard slap across his face and threw him back onto the bed angrily. Peter buried his face into the blanket and curled into himself, sobbing in a ball in the middle of the bed. His lungs were beginning to fill again but his whole torso ached painfully.  
Tony crawled over top of him and forced him onto his back, holding his forearm tightly across Peter's throat, effectively pinning him to the bed. Peter choked out a sob and threw his wrists above his head in a gesture of submission, making himself fully vulnerable.  
Tony smirked and slowly loosened his grip, testing how long the boy would stay obedient for. Peter didn't move and Tony sat up, still pinning Peter's body with his hips and thighs.  
"I think you've been bad, Peter. I think I should punish you," Tony said menacingly. Peter drew in a larger breath, still not able to completely fill his lungs, and managed to force out in a hoarse voice, "I swear Daddy, I didn't _say_ anything!" It technically wasn't a lie, he hadn't verbally said a word.  
"I think you're lying Peter. I think I should punish you. Should I get the riding crop again?" He asked rhetorically, not concerned with whether or not Peter answered.  
Peter cautiously pulled himself into a sitting position and peered up at Tony with begging eyes, gently caressing Tony's chest and rubbing his face against him. He whimpered like a dog that knew he'd been bad but was trying to stay out of the doghouse. 

Tony looked down on Peter, rubbing against him like a needy whore, and his cock began to harden as he watched.  
"You're such a dirty slut, Peter. Did you suck him off?" Tony asked, face dark. Peter's head flashed up at Tony with a shocked look and he shook his head, curls wild and eyes wide.  
"No Daddy! I just showed him to the bathroom, I swear!" He mewled up at him, pawing at his chest pleadingly. Tony still straddled Peter's hips and he absently began grinding his hardening length against Peter's torso.  
Peter sucked in a breath and reached for Tony's zipper, rubbing his hand against him, trying to distract Tony from thoughts of punishment, big brown eyes looking up at him through tear streaked eyelashes. He blinked up at him, trying to look innocent and pleading as he caressed Tony through his jeans. Tony slapped his hands away and growled at him.  
"I didn't say you could touch me, whore," he spat. Peter flinched and a few fat tears rolled down his cheeks as he tried to hold back sobs.  
"Daddy please, let me make you feel good. I can't do anything else to prove it to you," he whispered up at him, hands clasped like he was praying for forgiveness.  
"You want me to stuff that little pink hussy hole of yours again like I did earlier?" Tony growled, knowing that Peter wasn't healed enough yet for more. Peter's eyes went wide with anxiety, breaths caught in his throat.  
If he said yes, he didn't think he'd be able to handle the pain of another intrusion, especially with as angry as Tony was. If he said no, Tony would most likely beat him until he couldn't feel it anymore. He started hyperventilating and shaking violently, trying to caress Tony's chest again. Tony grabbed Peter's skinny wrists in one hand, jerking his arms high above him, immobilizing him, and slapped him viciously over and over, until his hand came away bloody.  
Peter cried out, trying to wrench his hands free to protect himself.  
"Daddy!" He shrieked, the coppery taste of blood hot in his burning mouth. He started thrashing wildly underneath of Tony's weight, bucking his hips up into him, trying to yank his hands away.  
"You don't _want_ to be a good boy for Daddy? Maybe I should just tie you down and _take_ what I want from you," Tony snarled at Peter.  
The teen immediately stilled and cried out "please Daddy! Y-you can fuck my mouth! I'll be a good boy, I promise! I'm a _good boy_!" Tony loosed another hard slap across his face, sending a trail of blood splattering across the bed.  
"I _know_ I can fuck your slutty little mouth, I can do whatever I _want_." He growled. Peter nodded emphatically.  
"Yes Daddy, yes, yes Daddy-" Peter sobbed, closing his eyes. Tony pulled his arms harder, stretching Peter's poor little body to it's limit. Peter struggled to breathe against his restricted lungs and all the different painful sensations, blood running freely from his nose and lips.  
"That doesn't make you a good boy Peter," Tony continued, making sure Peter knew how much he disapproved of his alleged indiscretions. "It just makes you a tramp."  
Peter couldn't do anything but whimper, body growing weak from the struggle. Tony loosed his grip without warning, letting Peter fall to the bed. He lay limply, not bothering to move. Tony rubbed himself through the front of his pants, bringing himself to full arousal.  
"You're going to take this big fat daddy cock one way or another Peter," he stated coldly, gripping his hard length through the front of his pants tauntingly at Peter.  
Peter choked down a sob and nodded slowly. "Yes Daddy, I'll do whatever you want," he said in a shakey voice, lisping slightly around the cuts on his lips.  
Tony reached forward with two fingers and cruelly forced them into Peter's mouth, pushing his jaw open and ignoring the boys' sharp hiss of pain as he pushed over a deep cut. He pressed down on Peter's tongue, forcing his mouth wide. Peter drooled a steady stream of saliva and blood onto his collar bones and chest, tilting his head down slightly to escape some of the pressure Tony put on him.  
Tony painfully pressed Peter's tongue down harder, eliciting a gag from the teen as he began sliding his fingers back and forth toward his throat. He started fucking Peter's mouth with his fingers, harder and deeper, relishing in the gags he pulled from the teens throat.  
"Stick out your tongue," he demanded as he continued. Peter tried to obey but each time he did, Tony would thrust his fingers in again, causing the boy to retch and draw it back in.  
"Come on Peter, stick it out," he said, sadistic smirk on his face as he watched the teen struggle to follow the simple command.  
After Peter had gagged loudly a few times, Tony pulled his fingers back, allowing Peter to finally stick his tongue out as commanded. He stroked the teens tongue with one finger for a moment softly before pulling his hand fully away, coming away covered in blood. He wiped his hand across the front of Peter's shirt and dismounted the boy's hips, standing at the edge of the bed.  
"I want you naked and hard in the next 20 seconds or I'm going to beat your little white ass so hard you'll be eating soup through a straw for the rest of your life." Tony said it with the same calm that a nurse would use when preparing to give a shot. Peter's eyes went wide and he scrambled to follow orders, no doubt that Tony would follow through on his threat.  
He hurriedly pulled the shirt from his chest and shimmied the jeans from his hips, closing his eyes and gripping his soft cock, trying to invoke thoughts of arousal. He didn't have much to go on, since this one hellish weekend was all he had in the way of experience.  
He thought of his first forced time with James, the way his beautiful ocean colored eyes had looked as he slowly entered him and he felt his cock twitching to life, giving a gentle tug. He decided to follow that train of thought and went back to that moment, the way the older man's hands had gently roamed his body, big and soft and warm. The way he'd whispered sweetly into Peter's ear, scruffy chin grazing his skin, and gently worked to bring Peter to his own completion. He thought of the little freckles that dusted the man's chest and the way it felt when he kissed him, gentle and sweet.  
"Time's up," Tony said from the edge of the bed. Peter reluctantly opened his eyes to see Tony instead of James and his mostly hard cock wavered as icy fear shot through his heart. He prayed that his body was obedient enough to please the man holding the power.  
Tony had removed his clothes as well, standing naked, strong body coiled and ready to pounce on the teen's little frame. He slowly climbed back over the boy, gripping his skinny hips and sliding him down the bed so that his legs hung off the side and continued up the bed until his hips straddled Peter's bony shoulders. The blood dripping from Peters face had slowed and dried, smearing across his face still but Tony paid no attention to it. He took his own thick length into his hands and gently tapped Peter's cut lips with it a few times with a groan.  
"Stick out your tongue," he repeated and as soon as the teen obeyed, he started tapping his fat cock head against the little pink muscle, a little harder than before. He leaned forward on his knees, directing his cock into Peter's mouth and the teen reached up and wrapped his hands around the man's strong, thick thighs, preparing himself for the onslaught he knew was about to occur.  
Tony started sliding the thick girth into Peter's mouth, quickly reaching the back of his throat before he was anywhere near bottoming out and Peter tried to hold back his gags as the older man pushed farther. The muscles in Peter's body began to spasm, fighting the urge to stop the invasion, fingertips beginning to squeeze into Tony's thighs. Tony leaned fully forward, falling onto the bed above Peter and dropped his hips maddeningly slowly, sinking his cock farther and farther down the teens skinny throat.  
Peter couldn't open his airways enough to get a breath and his eyes started rolling back into his head as he tried his hardest to relax his muscles.  
Finally, Tony began to pull his length back out, allowing room for Peter to breathe. Peter sucked in a loud breath through his nose as soon as he could and squeezed his eyes shut, knowing this was just the beginning.  
Tony pushed back in, much quicker than before, forcing his length all the way to the hilt again and pushing harder. Peter's jaw screamed in pain and Tony's body pressed against his sore nose but he didn't dare move. Tony began fucking into Peter's mouth at a brutal pace, not caring how hard his body slapped against Peter's face or whether or not he could breathe. Peter could taste the man's bitter precome leaking from the tip of his cock and he gagged and wretched, squeezing his fingers hard enough to break skin with his fingernails. He could feel his head beginning to swim from the lack of oxygen and wondered if it would be better to pass out or not.  
Tony pulled his hips back and his cock slid fully from Peter's mouth wetly. Peter coughed loudly and gulped in huge lungfuls of air, tears falling from his eyes. He could see smeared blood around the base of Tony's cock on his skin and knew it was his own. He looked up at Tony and tried to guess what was to come, still panting loudly.  
"Such a perfect little whore mouth Peter," Tony growled out. "Did you try to fuck Bruce?" He asked, bringing his dark face closer to Peter. Peter's face went white with shock, mouth falling open.  
"No!" He screeched out incredulously, voice hoarse. "I didn't do anything to Bruce! I'm _not a slut_ , Daddy!" His face filled with anger at the accusation. Tony coiled his arm back, preparing to slap Peter again and the anger quickly drained from Peter's face, bringing his arms up to protect his face. " _NO DADDY!_ " he shrieked, trying to hide as much of himself as he could. Tony's big hand came down and collided with Peter's forearm, face ferocious at the audacity of the teen.  
" _You tried to fuck him_ ," he raged, trying to pull Peter's arms away from his face. Peter shrieked and fought back, trying his best to protect himself and fend off the blows from the deranged man.  
"Daddy please! I DIDN'T! I didn't do anything to him, I swear! I didn't touch him, I didn't even say anything! I don't want to fuck him!-" Peter and Tony wrestled for power as he screamed out pleas, trying to reach Tony's sensible side desperately, if he had one-"I only want you daddy! I only love _you_ , I only want _YOU_ to fuck me!"  
Tony's hands slowed down at the last few proclamations and he panted heavily above Peter for a moment, thoroughly digesting what he'd heard.  
"You love me?" He said quietly after a moment. Peter nodded vigorously.  
"Yes Daddy!" He lied, "I love you and I only want you!" He reached up a shaking hand and cautiously rested it gently on Tony's bare chest, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the skin. When Tony didn't move, he reached the other hand up and gently caressed his chest again, playing with the graying hairs there.  
"Please Daddy, I just want to make you feel good," Peter whimpered quietly, hoping he'd diffused the man's rage.

Tony looked down at the fragile looking boy beneath him, battered and bloodied by his own hands, cowering and begging literally for his life. He was such a pretty boy until he'd been punished for being so bad. He hadn't had a choice but to hurt the boy, he'd been disobedient and could have jeopardized Tony's entire life. Tony was sure of it, but Peter swore he was innocent. He wanted to believe the boy but he also did enjoy punishing disobedient brats. Peter looked up at him with his pretty chocolate eyes and pleaded, proclaiming love but how was Tony to know if it was real? What if it was just a trick to squirm out of being punished? Anger flared in Tony's head and chest at the thought of being deceived in such a way but it was quelled by the teens' little fingers gently touching his skin. He reached his large hand down and watched panic flash in Peter's eyes at the movement as he fought to hold still, and he gently placed it on the teen's thin chest. He could feel his little heart hammering rapidly in his ribcage, like a rabbit caught by a wolf. Tony delighted in that fear.  
Fear created obedience. Obedience created order. He felt like he was so close to breaking Peter, making him into the perfect little lover and fuck-toy. Just like James.  
He loved James and he was pretty sure the love was reciprocated. James had broke hard but he was worth it. He was so perfect and always ready when Daddy wanted him, expert in how to please Tony. But he'd been there for so long that he no longer had the same fear that Peter had now. He knew how to avoid punishment and he didn't cry out anymore when Tony tried to hurt him, he just accepted it. And he'd grown up. He was no longer young and vulnerable and nowhere near as delicate as he used to be. It was difficult to toss him around now. That's why when Tony had seen Peter on the news, he knew he was perfect. Smart beautiful and little. So delicate and delicious. His bones stuck out just the perfect amount that made Tony want to crush him and protect him all at once. He'd work on making him regress a little and that might be hard, but he couldn't wait to see those big brown eyes look up at Tony and need him. It came natural to James and that had been oh, so sweet. Peter seemed to take to the binki pretty well already, which Tony loved, but he wanted him really _little_. He wanted to see Peter bubbly and gushing over a new stuffed animal or treat and he was determined to make it happen.  
"Prove it," he finally said. Peter looked up at him through his long lashes for a moment before finally asking, "how?".  
"Figure it out," Tony replied simply as he moved off of the teen, sitting naked on the bed, leisurely spreading out. He watched Peter watching him and could see the teen thinking, rolling the statement around in his head before he sat up slowly. He glanced toward the door with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth, but Tony knew he wouldn't run again. The teen sat looking vulnerable, trying to decide what to do before he finally started crawling slowly toward Tony. He placed himself between Tony's knees and started toward his hard cock, reaching and then pausing, looking back up at Tony.  
"What's the matter, little bunny?" Tony asked him lazily.  
Peter wrung his hands nervously and his lip quivered before he lisped out, "um, Daddy? Ca-can you please be... be nice to me?" His face flushed and he looked positively devourable. Tony smiled at the little creature and took a deep breath in before he responded.  
"I'll only give you what I think you can handle, how's that sound?" He asked in a sly way. He knew Peter could handle more than he thought. Peter looked unsure but nodded a little before he continued on. He reached his little hands for Tony's big cock and wrapped his spindly fingers around it. His hands looked so small around Tony's thick cock and Tony felt a deep sense of pleasure at the sight. He growled a low sound of approval to spur him on. Peter timidly leaned forward and took Tony's cock head between his busted lips and started sucking gently, working up to taking more. Tony was sure his mouth hurt after the blows he'd given him and he was proud of the boy for choosing this route to pleasure him anyway, but he was sure the alternative wasn't much better. He'd seen the tearing that had happened when he'd applied the healing ointment and he knew that was sore too. The teen's tongue swirled around the slit timidly, lapping at the precome as it dripped out and Tony let out a pleased sigh at the feeling. He brushed his hand through Peter's soft shaggy curls and pulled them away from his face so he could see everything. Peter froze at the feeling of his thick fingers and looked up at him with wide eyes, no doubt nervous about the first time Tony had forced him to take it all. He looked so pretty, naked and on his knees, lips stretched obscenely around the thick head of Tony's cock, wide eyed.  
"Beautiful," Tony murmured.  
The blood smeared across the boy's face was just a reminder of Tony's control over him, it didn't bother him in the least. Peter's shoulders finally loosened when Tony didn't pull or push or move at all and he continued with his attentions. He slowly took more of Tony into his mouth, beginning to bob his head gently and his hot little mouth felt good, albeit a little inexperienced. Tony canted his hips gently up into his mouth, bumping the back of his throat before even half of him was inside. Peter gagged softly and his eyes flashed to Tony again but he stayed gentle, trying to keep the little sparrow calm.  
"So good Peter. You're being a good boy," he murmured out. Peter seemed to enjoy the praise and he began to suck a little harder, taking just a little more into his throat.  
"Do you like it when I call you a good boy, Peter?" Tony asked quietly. Peter moaned a response in the affirmative and the vibrations caused Tony to buck up into Peter again, with less control. Peter gagged and tried to pull off immediately, panic in his eyes, but Tony's hand held him firmly in place.  
"Shhh, baby it's ok, I didn't mean it. It just made Daddy feel good," Tony soothed, petting his hair gently. He continued on, trying to calm Peter.  
"Do you like when Daddy calls you a slut?" He asked sincerely. Peter couldn't talk with his mouth so full, so he shook his head no.  
"Mmm, baby that feels good," Tony said distractedly. "I won't call you slut anymore unless you've been a bad boy. Does that sound good, Peter?"  
Peter hummed again and Tony groaned.  
"I'm sorry to push, gumdrop, but I need a little more from you. Prove to Daddy that you love him and you want to make him feel good," he looked Peter intently in the eyes and Peter seemed to understand that he was receiving a grace that was out of the ordinary. Peter took a deep breath and a look of concentration crossed his features as he opened his jaw and attempted to swallow down as much of Tony as he could.  
" _Fuck_ ," Tony breathed out at the sensation.  
Soon, Peter was slurping and bobbing in earnest, trying his best to please the older man. Tony watched his facial expressions through hazy eyes, watching his cheeks hollow and his eyebrows knit together as he concentrated on not gagging and it felt a lot like heaven.  
"That's a good boy, kitten, that's so good," he took the hand that Peter had wrapped around the base of his cock and placed it on his sensitive scrotum instead, applying a slight pressure.  
"Daddy likes that," Tony encouraged. The hand he had in Peter's hair tightened a bit as his pleasure grew and he started to push ever so slightly on the boy's head. Peter let out a squeak but Tony shushed him.  
"It's ok sweetie, you can do it," he reassured. 

Peter continued taking as much of Tony as he physically could without being forced, his heart hammering in his throat and his cheeks flushed. He was so deep in concentration that he didn't hear the door creak open behind him.  
"Daddy?" A weak sounding voice called out from behind him. Peter jumped and tried to pull off Tony's cock but the stronger man held him firmly in place. Peter's face flushed with shame at how he must look to James, face buried in Tony's lap, and the view he had at the moment.  
"Yes, my love?" Tony answered, voice sounding blissful. "How are you feeling?" He gave Peter a small nudge and he reluctantly started bobbing again.  
"Not so good Daddy, my head hurts really bad," he replied, voice sounding a little whiney. Peter could hear the man's soft footsteps approaching at his side and he glanced out of the corner of his eye to see James' hand reaching for the discarded blue pacifier from earlier. It had gotten dropped on the box of expensive chocolates that still sat there. He couldn't turn his head fully to see the man's face.  
"Want Daddy to get you some medicine?" Tony's voice sounded like he was getting close to finishing.  
"When you're done, Daddy" he replied quietly. He played with the pacifier in his fingers and watched Peter work, which made Peter blush furiously in shame.  
"Daddy?" James said again quietly.  
"Yes, pet?" Tony replied, starting to sound a little irritated.  
"Can I have a chocolate?"  
Tony laughed at the silly question and the timing of it. "You'll have to ask Peter, they're his," he answered, pulling Peter off his cock finally. Peter's face burned but he doubted James could see it under all the dried blood.  
James' eyes went wide at the sight of him and he sucked in a deep breath but he didn't say anything about it.  
"May I please have a chocolate, Petey?" James asked, still eyeing the swollen bottom half of his face.  
Peter gasped, trying to catch his breath and nodded his head as much as he could with Tony's fist still in his hair. "Have as many as you like," he answered, feeling strange in the awkward position he was in, hovering above Tony's hard cock.  
"Thanks Pete," James replied quietly, lifting the lid and taking one out, popping it into his mouth.  
"I'll get you some pills as soon as I'm done here honey, it won't be long," Tony said as he guided his cock back into Peter's mouth and pushed him down on it. Peter flushed again but vigorously resumed where he'd left off, determined to get his humiliation over with. James sat lightly on the bed and absently placed his hand on Peter's lower back, rubbing gently. Goose bumps bloomed across Peter's skin at the light, warm touch. James reached his free hand back to the box and pulled out another chocolate, popping it into his mouth and his other hand began to roam. Peter let out a squeak when he felt his hand gently squeezing his ass cheek, second hand joining on the other side. His fingers gently spread Peter apart and he let out a whimper around Tony's cock. He felt James' thumb ghosting across his sore entrance and he flinched, hoping that James wasn't going to try to enter him.  
"You wanna play, Buck?" Tony asked, moments away from release.  
"Can I play with him in my room?" James asked, letting go. Peter's heart sunk and hot tears formed in his eyes. It felt like a betrayal, but he knew James didn't really owe him anything. He shouldn't _really_ be disappointed, but he was.  
"I'm gonna come," Tony forced out suddenly, "swallow it," he commanded.  
Hot salty come poured down Peter's throat finally, filling his mouth quicker than he could choke back his gag reflex, spilling out around his lips and down his chin. Tony canted his hips into Peter's mouth a few times before he finally, _finally_ let go of Peter. Peter pulled off slowly, sitting up and pressing his hands into his lap, head hung in humiliation, face messy with blood and come. He sat waiting for instructions, not moving.  
"Peter," James called softly. He slowly, reluctantly turned toward James and saw him holding his fingers hovering close to his chin. "Open," he said.  
Peter swallowed back hot tears and opened wide, shutting his eyes against whatever James was going to do.  
James delicately placed a square of chocolate into his mouth and gently pressed his chin up, closing his mouth. Peter opened his eyes and peered at James, not sure if he could trust him or not, but thankful for the sweet candy to wash away the musky taste of Tony. James smiled a small smile back at him.  
His forehead was angry and red and Peter wondered if it must be really hurting him. Tony interrupted their quiet gaze a moment later.  
"Thank you Peter. You were such a good boy. I'm going to get some medicine for Bucky now, so you're all his from this point on. Be good for Bucky too." He stood and slipped into the bathroom to retrieve some pain killers from the cabinet and clean himself up. Peter looked back at James and wondered what the man had in store. His stomach churned a little thinking about it, but he knew James was pretty gentle, so maybe it wouldn't be all bad. A moment later, Tony came back with three small white pills and a Dixie cup of water for James, who accepted gratefully, swallowing them immediately. Tony pulled his pants back on and looked at James as well.  
"I want you to take it easy Bucky, I don't want you hurting yourself more. Really, take your time if you need to. I can't take you to the hospital."  
James looked back up at Tony and smiled. "I'll be careful Daddy." Tony leaned down and kissed James on the lips and then left them in the room. James looked back at Peter.  
"Go take a shower, get yourself cleaned up. Try to be quick though. Meet me in my room," he said. Peter nodded and climbed from the bed, dread knotting in his belly.  
He showered quickly, gingerly scrubbing the blood from his face and rinsing his mouth thoroughly, then dried off and pulled on his jeans from before. He left the bloody shirt on the floor and went next door to meet James.  
He went through the doorway and James had his light off, sitting on the edge of his bed with his head down and his eyes closed, blue pacifier in his mouth. Peter quietly stepped inside, unsure of whether or not he should say anything. James noticed him then and pulled the pacifier from his mouth.  
"Close the door. Quietly please, and lock it." He said. His voice was gentle but commanding. He reached next to him and clicked on a small lamp, bathing the room in a soft golden yellow light. Peter did as he was told and timidly stepped into the room, stopping before James and kneeling on the floor between his legs, placing his hands gently on the man's knobby knees. He looked up at James and waited for instructions. James' beautiful blue eyes slowly opened again and looked down at Peter for a moment before he said anything. He studied the teen's face now that it was free of all the dried blood and gently lifted his chin with his first finger. He turned his head this way and that, examining from all angles. He lightly pressed on the bridge of Peter's nose in different places, gauging his reaction. When he was satisfied, he ran the pad of his middle finger lightly over Peter's bottom lip, inspecting the cuts.  
"You're lucky he didn't break your nose," he finally said, voice barely above a whisper. He released Peter's chin and slid back to the far edge of the bed against the wall, laying down slowly with his back against the cool paint. He pulled the blanket over himself and motioned for Peter to follow.  
"Sh-should I... Should I take off my clothes?" Peter asked shyly. James shook his head slightly and motioned again for Peter to join him. Peter nervously sat on the edge of the bed and slid under the blanket with James.  
"Closer," the older called. Peter slid as close as he could, until their knees bumped each other and waited. James still had the pacifier in his hand and slid it between his own lips, then scooted the rest of the way over to Peter, resting his head on Peter's chest, and wrapping his long legs together with Peter's. He released a sigh and nuzzled his head under Peter's chin, wrapping his arms around Peter's waist.  
"Will you please turn off the light?" His voice sounded so small. He reached above him and clicked off the lamp, plunging the room into darkness, then wrapped his arms around James' shoulders and held him tightly. Their bodies melted together warmly and Peter felt calm holding James. He nuzzled his nose gently into James'hair and smelled his watermelon shampoo, gently placing a light kiss there. James slipped his hand from Peter's waist and popped the pacifier out again. A moment later his quiet voice broke the silence.  
"I can't save you, Peter. I can't even save myself. I can't be your hero"  
Peter gently rubbed his shoulder and thought for a moment.  
"We could save each other," Peter replied just as quietly. "Help me save us both."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Thoughts? This is probably going to be one of the last chapeters. I think there's going to be one more and then the story will be finished, possibly two.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aliens invade and turn everyone into produce. Just kidding, but this is the last chapter so be forewarned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This picks up directly from where the last chapter left off, I believe they all do. I have read and reread this more times than I can count so I really hope there aren't too many typos or errors or things that my phone decided to auto-correct, like saying that Tony was brewing a potential of coffee instead of a pot (really, I have no idea why my phone hates me). I hope that everyone enjoys this chapter and where I decided to take it, as it _is_ officially the last chapter. I don't want to write too much before you read, so I'll have more notes at the bottom as usual!
> 
> https://starkerthanreality.tumblr.com/post/179566306170/sweet-little-thing-final-chapter-has-been-posted

James fell into sleep almost immediately after resting his head on Peter's chest. Peter ran his fingers through his messy hair and enjoyed the feeling of physical touch that wasn't sexual or forced. He was beginning to feel something like affection for the older man and he loved that James had wanted Peter to hold him in the first place. He'd been so anxious when James had told Tony that he wanted Peter in his bedroom, feeling deep betrayal. He'd told Peter that he couldn't save him, but Peter felt that in reality, he _had_ saved him from more abuse from Tony. Peter appreciated the gesture, even if it might have been a selfish gesture on James' part. Still, Peter knew that just being there afforded James some kind of comfort just like James did for Peter, and his mind reeled with fantastic scenarios where he was able to save the older man. He didn't know if it would be possible, but it was worth a try.  
Eventually, Peter had fallen asleep too, curled warmly around James.  
The evening had still been pretty early when they'd fallen asleep and a few hours later, James had awoken with a powerful throbbing in his head and a choked sob in the dark. His body trembled and he'd sweat through his thin t-shirt, panting quietly. Peter had woken feeling the larger man burning through his clothes and when his brain had unfogged, he realized that James was shaking. He sat up carefully, trying not to jostle the man too much and flipped the little lamp back on.  
James looked pale and a sheen of sweat covered his entire face and body. The man's teeth chattered and Peter tried to hold back his panic.  
"James!" He breathed out quietly. James looked up at him and smiled weakly, trying his best to play off how bad of a state he was in.  
"I should get Tony! Shouldn't I? No, I should, you need... Medicine! And-and-and juice! Oh god-" Peter leaped from under the covers and raced for the door before James had time to respond. He quickly opened it and ran next door to Tony's room, nervously knocking on the door. When he didn't get a response, he slowly opened the door and peeked in. The room was dark, save for the light from an analog clock on the nightstand that read 1:36 am. Tony was nowhere to be seen. Peter quickly ran out toward the living room and kitchen, searching frantically for the man but not seeing him anywhere. Peter's heart hammered in his chest at the thought of the way James had looked and tried his best to stay calm. What would an adult do? Probably get an ice pack. Peter ran for the freezer and searched out anything he could use to aid James. When he failed to find any ice cubes or gel packs, he grabbed a bag of frozen carrots and Lima beans and threw them on the counter. He'd always hated both carrots and Lima beans. Peter remembered that Bruce had said James needed sugary drinks like juice and quickly pulled open the refrigerator door, searching for something sweet. He found a square carton of organic blueberry mango guava juice and grabbed a cup, wondering if it could possibly even taste good and why Tony didn't have any normal food in his fridge. He wracked his brain trying to remember if Bruce had said anything else and frantically wondered why he hadn't left his number in case he needed to be contacted.  
Suddenly, Peter remembered Bruce's sly hand movement before he'd left. He'd seen something white between his fingers as he lay his hand on the shelf by the elevator. That _had_ to be it! Well, it had to be _something_! He raced over to the shelf and spied a small card sticking out from under a jade Buddha statue and swiped it up. On the front it said Bruce Banner and held a number. Peter flipped the card over. There scrawled in hastily written letters it said, " _I'll be back for you both, be safe_ "  
Peter's heart did a somersault and he was elated, quickly slipping the card into his back pocket. He ran back to grab the glass of juice and the disgusting frozen hell vegetables and ran back to James' aid. He slowed before he entered the room and tried to be as quiet as possible as he stepped inside. James hadn't moved and he lay in a damp circle of sweat on the bed.  
"Oh, James," Peter whispered softly. He set the bag on the nightstand, wanting to get him to drink first.  
"Jay, you have to drink this juice, can you sit up?" He asked as quietly as possible. James nodded weakly and attempted to lift himself off the bed but his arms were too shakey and he fell back down onto the mattress. Peter set the juice aside and helped lift James into a sitting position.  
"Jeez old man, you're going to need a walker soon," Peter tried to joke. James' lip curled into a smile and he chuckled a little under his breath.  
Peter grabbed the juice again and held it to James' lips, helping him drink it.  
"Drink more," Peter advised when James had only taken a sip. He made a little pouty face but drank more anyway and soon Peter had convinced him to take down most of the glass. By the time he had, his shaking had lessened and his sweating had started to break.  
"You're already looking better," Peter said, relieved. "Does your head hurt? I can get you some medicine," he offered. James shook his head gently. "Only Tony can get to the pills, he keeps them locked up," James responded in his quiet voice. Peter frowned. Just then his stomach grumbled loudly and his face flushed. "Sorry," he mumbled.  
James just smiled. "I'm pretty hungry too. We missed dinner," he responded.  
"I can make us something," Peter offered. "I'm not as good of a cook as you but it'll be edible," he laughed. James chuckled. "I'll take you up on that offer, kiddo."  
"Oh, here!" Peter grabbed the bag and handed it to James. "For your head." James' cheeks twinged pink and he smiled gratefully at Peter, taking the makeshift ice pack.  
Peter helped James up off the bed and walked a step behind him to offer support if he needed on their way to the kitchen. Once there, he helped the older man onto a stool at the bar and set about deciding on something to make for the two of them.  
"I'm not going to lie, my skill set is very limited," he said with his head in the refrigerator again. "How's grilled ham and cheese sound?" He asked, poking his head out. James chuckled again. "Sounds perfect, Petey."  
Peter pulled out cheese, lunch meat and butter and got to work making sandwiches. He made two for both of them and plated them up, only taking a few minutes to have everything made and cleaned up again. He grabbed a small bowl and filled it with Italian dressing and sat down across the bar from James.  
"Italian?" James asked curiously.  
"Just try it," Peter assured. James dipped a corner of his sandwich into the dressing and took a cautious bite. "Okay, you're right, that's good," he conceded, chewing thoughtfully. They both dug in hungrily.  
After a moment of silence, Peter spoke up.  
"Where's Tony?" He asked James.  
"Could be in the workshop, most likely," he responded. "These are pretty good too, thanks Pete," he added. Peter just smiled around a particularly large bite.  
They'd finished in no time and Peter collected their plates, depositing them into the sink. He sat back down across from the man and took in his appearance.  
James looked exhausted, no doubt from all the blood loss he'd gone through, and he was still pale. He looked better than he had though.  
"Hey Jay?" Peter said quietly.  
"Hmm?" He'd replied absently.  
"Thanks for taking me to your room with you. I think Tony would have hurt me more if you didn't," he said in a quiet voice, flushing slightly. "I actually thought you were going to hurt me too." He finished, ducking his head down and hiding under his curls. James' face screwed up inquisitively. "Why'd you think that?"  
"Well... You were... _touching_ me and-and then you... Said you wanted to _play_ with me..." He looked down at his bare feet as he spoke, hands clasped tightly together in his lap. James shook his head as he listened.  
"I just couldn't help but notice..." James motioned at Peter's lower half. "When I came into Tony's room... It looks pretty painful."  
Peter flushed again, drawing his shoulders toward his ears.  
"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," James continued, trying to meet Peter's gaze. "I just wanted to see how bad... And when Tony gave me the option to... ”have you”-" he made air quotes with his fingers- "I just said yes so I could take you with me. I never intended to hurt you, Pete. I couldn't even if I wanted to."  
Peter kept his head down but shifted his eyes up to see the older man's face. He looked genuine, and Peter's shoulders relaxed slightly.  
"I... I heard you scream..." James said, barely above a whisper. Peter's face flushed crimson all the way to the roots of his hair and he dropped his face into his hands, trying to hide his humiliation from the older man.  
"I'm sorry, Peter," James said earnestly, blue gaze still boring directly into the teen. "It's not your fault."  
Tears sprang to Peter's eyes and he began to shake with the effort of holding them back, still hiding his face in his hands, tiny squeaks escaping his throat. James rose from his stool and quickly crossed to Peter's side, gently placing his hand on his bony shoulder.  
Peter didn't hesitate to bury his face into James' chest at the touch and he wrapped his arms tightly around him, floodgates of emotions breaking open. His body was wracked with sobs that he couldn't even try to hold back.  
He cried for everything that had happened to him since he'd come to Tony's house of horror. He cried for his stolen and forced first time and it's lack of intimacy. He cried for the pain he'd been put through. He cried for his lack of being able to stand up for himself. For his powerlessness. For his fear; his agony. He cried for his humiliation and the degrading things he'd been made to do. He cried that his bodily autonomy had been taken from him. That his freedom had been stolen. He cried because every fiber of his being begged him to run but he knew that he couldn't. He cried because of the way his skin crawled when Tony touched him, and because he was beginning to grow accustomed to it, even like it a little bit. He cried because when he thought about the way Tony had punished him, a part of him felt like he deserved it. He cried because he already felt so close to James when the reality was, they just happened to be living in the same nightmare together. He cried because his heart told him that James loved him, or at least cared for him, but his head told him that James would betray him at a moment's notice and he didn't know which to believe. He cried because he felt such a lack of real security and safety.  
He cried for a long time, and James held him tightly, shushing him gently and murmuring sweetly into his hair, carding his fingers through his chestnut curls.  
"It's ok, Peter. It's ok," he whispered like a mantra, soothingly.  
Peter held James so tightly that his arms started to lose circulation after a while. Finally, his tears slowed and he was able to lift his face from James' shirt and look up at him.  
James ran a soft thumb over Peter's cheek to wipe away the salty tear that rolled down his face and leaned down to place a warm kiss on his forehead.  
It was almost three in the morning by this time, and Peters face looked just as exhausted as James'.  
His russet brown eyes were puffy and inflamed from the torrent of emotion that he'd unleashed, and his busted lips were just as swollen, cracked and quivering slightly.  
"Let's go to bed, Petey. Before Tony gets back," James whispered, brushing a stray lock of hair from Peter's temple. Peter sniffled and nodded, allowing James to take control of the situation. James leaned down and wrapped his long powerful fingers around Peter's thighs and lifted him from his stool, wrapping the teen's legs around his waist. Peter sighed out a deep, stuttering breath and lay his head on James' shoulder, grateful for him completely.  
"I can walk if you want, I know your head really hurts," Peter hiccuped, wrapping his arms tighter around the older man's shoulders even as he said it. James didn't respond, carrying Peter down the hallway to his bedroom. He placed the teen gently onto the bed and quietly slipped from the room to enter Tony's.  
Peter still didn't have a shirt, since he'd abandoned the bloodied gray one from before, and James brought him another one, helping him pull it over his head. He placed his hand behind Peter's neck and moved him into a laying position and then crawled over him to lay beside him. He replaced his arms around Peter and they lay tangled in each other once again, this time with James providing the comfort to Peter.  
Peter nuzzled his sore, bruised face into James and tried to breathe himself into a calmer state. James smelled good, like sandalwood and lavender.  
After a while in silence, Peter finally looked up at James again.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered in a raspy voice. James looked back at him with his ocean blue eyes and leaned forward slowly, lips slightly parted. When he was just centimeters away he whispered back, "can I kiss you, Peter?"  
Peter turned his big chocolate eyes up to James' stormy blues and soaked in the look James gave him. He looked like some part of him really cared for Peter.  
He didn't look like Tony; hungry and controlling and sadistic. His eyes looked sweet and slightly haunted and Peter's heart swelled happily at being asked for consent.  
He slowly nodded his head and the corners of James' lips curled into a tiny smile. He cast his eyes down at Peter's lips and slowly, gently leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to the outside corner, lingering for a moment before pulling back and placing another on the other side of Peter's mouth, and finally he pressed his lips softly against Peter's, taking his bottom lip between his own.  
Peter felt tension melting away from his shoulders as his whole body relaxed and he allowed the older man to take control. James' lips lingered on Peter's, passionately and tenderly kissing the boy. His kisses were light and chaste, avoiding making him uncomfortable in any way but enjoying the way his lips moved back in response to his own.  
Peter was the first to break the kiss, pulling back slightly. "Do you want me to touch you?" He asked quietly, eyes betraying his nerves.  
"No, Peter. You don't have to do anything for me. I won't treat you like he does," James responded, placing a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. Peter felt warmth bubbling in his chest at the words and his toes curled happily. James smiled in response to Peter's happiness and closed his eyes, nuzzling the boy into his chest and squeezing him tightly. They both fell into a comfortable sleep again and didn't wake until morning.

James was the first to wake, slowly opening his eyes in the windowless room. He was still tangled with Peter and he didn't think he'd be able to slip away without waking the boy, so he lay still and absently played with a strand of Peter's hair. They'd slept late into the morning, having been up so late the night before, and James wondered if Tony had come back yet from wherever he'd gone.  
He carefully stretched one leg and then another and then tried to pull back just slightly to stretch his spine. As he did so, he saw from the corner of his eye that the door was cracked open a few inches. The morning light shone brightly from the hallway and it made his eyes work to adjust to the contrast. As soon as he could get a clear view he realized that Tony was in the corner, sitting in a chair quietly and watching the two of them. He gasped and flinched at the man's dark eyes glistening in the shadowy corner, and he immediately grew nervous. He slowly tried to disentangle himself from Peter and sit up, trying not to wear a look of guilt. He didn't have a reason to feel guilty but he knew Tony well enough to know that he would find a reason to punish them if they let him.  
"Good morning, my pet." Tony said quietly as he watched James struggle to a sitting position.  
James looked to the door again. He could have sworn he'd locked it behind him when he'd come in the night before. His heart started to thump in his chest and at the same moment his head started pounding too. He winced and brought his hand gingerly to his forehead, feeling the stitches there.  
"I'm glad you're home," James forced out. "I-I need some more medicine Daddy, it really hurts." He knew if he played up his injury and need to be cared for that he could diffuse some of Tony's anger. If he even _was_ angry, James had no idea. It was just better to be safe than to be sorry.  
"Hmm," Tony hummed out, not moving.  
"You two look pretty cozy there, all wrapped up together." He was leaned back in the small chair, arms folded across his chest.  
James tried his best to swallow but his heart felt like it was in his throat, and it was beating fast.  
"I-I-we just fell asleep. Y-you said I could have him so I... A-and we-" Tony held his hand up to stop him.  
"I feel like maybe you two are getting a little too close," he stated bluntly.  
James felt his heart stop for a moment. He glanced from Tony to Peter, still sleeping pleasantly next to him, curls splayed out in a halo around his head. They'd been practically fused together while they slept, curled so tightly within each other. Peter's legs were still draped over James' boney knees. He looked back up at Tony, eyebrows beginning to raise and draw together, betraying his unease.  
"I'd _love_ to punish you _both_. But I can't punish _you_ because of the condition you're in-" he motioned to his own forehead-"so I'll have to settle for just punishing _him_." He pointed to the still sleeping teen.  
James broke out into a cold sweat. He wracked his brain for a way to save Peter from whatever Tony might throw his way. He couldn't think of anything that might appeal to the oldest man's sense of empathy. The only thing he could do was outright beg.  
"Please Daddy, he didn't do anything wrong, I promise you," he tried, trying to keep his voice even. Tony stared at him, watching his expressions.  
"Daddy, I promise you, we just... Messed around and then we fell asleep. He was a good boy. I was good too, Daddy, I promise!” his voice started to pitch a little higher, desperation seeping through. Tony smirked and shook his head.  
"Why do you care so much about him? Unless what I said is true? You _are_ getting too close," he stated, arms still crossed smugly. James' eyes went wide.  
"N-no Daddy, I-you _told_ me to care about him!" He tried, losing control of his fear.  
"I told you not to fall in love with him," Tony asserted, voice becoming a growl. He slowly uncrossed his body and leaned forward menacingly.  
"Wha-no! I'm-I'm not Daddy, I swear!" James' voice shook, not sure if he was lying or not. Tony just scoffed under his breath and stood slowly, imposing height towering over the two men in the bed. James felt himself cower backwards and tried to remain still, tried not to shrink back and show his fear. His hand subconsciously moved to rest on Peter's shoulders defensively and Peter stirred a bit, letting out a deep breath in his sleep. James looked at Peter and felt a pang of guilt for what he was going to go through because of him. He shouldn't have tried to be someone he wasn't, and now Peter was going to pay. He looked back up at Tony as he slowly descended toward them.  
"Wait Daddy, it isn't his fault the way I feel, you shouldn't punish him because of me!" He tried one last time.  
Tony ignored him and reached for Peter. "You should have thought of that before now." Tony replied flatly. He gripped Peter's shoulders roughly, startling him awake. His big brown eyes popped open fearfully and met James' apologetic gaze just as he was yanked from the bed. He let out a yelp, unaware of what was going on, and Tony pulled him from the room. James ignored the throbbing in his head and leapt from the bed to chase after them, but Tony slammed the door behind him. James heard him slide the lock on the outside of his door and knew there was nothing he could do anymore.

Peter's heart pounded as he was ripped from the bed he slept on. Tony's big hands gripped his shoulders roughly, bringing tears to Peter's eyes and he looked around him wildly, trying to figure out what happened. Tony pulled him so quickly that his feet barely touched the ground, and he struggled to keep up with the larger man. He steered Peter into the living room and dropped him to the floor with a thud, walking past him to face him from the other side of the room.  
"Good morning, Peter," Tony said to the boy as he tried to get his wits about him. Peter looked up at him from the floor with a terrified expression and Tony could clearly see the swelling and bruising on his face from the day before in the bright morning light.  
"D-daddy?" Peter managed to force out. He wasn't sure if he should stand or stay put, and he glanced back at the hallway to see if James had followed them.  
"He's grounded," Tony said with sarcasm in his voice. "He's been breaking my rules and I don't appreciate it." Peter gulped, beginning to understand that something bad was definitely going to happen. He shook his head slightly.  
"No Daddy, he didn't do anything wrong. He's too sick to be bad," he tried to assure, voice cracking a little.  
"Oh it's not a question of what he's done, Peter. I think he's beginning to have feelings for you, and he knows that's not allowed." Peter's heart leapt at the words but he kept his face neutral.  
"Oh Daddy, a-all due respect but-" his voice wavered-"I don't think that's true. He's very loyal to you," Peter stated matter of factly. Tony smirked.  
"So you've been trying to persuade to him?"  
Peter's eyes went wide and he shook his head, quick little jerks that did nothing to hide his fear.  
"No Daddy! I would never-" Tony cut him off.  
"I don't believe you Peter and I'm tired of feeling like I'm being lied to. You're my pet and you'll do what I want you to or you'll be punished, period."  
Peter nodded his head emphatically.  
"Yes Daddy, of course!"  
Tony snapped his fingers and pointed to the couch.  
"Sit."  
Peter jumped up immediately and scrambled to sit down in the corner of the couch. He drew his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself and watching Tony.  
"Do you like hot sauce Peter?" Tony asked nonchalantly as he walked toward the kitchen. Peter's face twisted up, confused. "N-not... Not really?" He answered quietly.  
"Good," Tony replied, pulling a bottle from the cupboard. "Buck does. Drives me crazy."  
He walked back to Peter with the bottle in his hand.  
"Sit straight, feet on the floor," he ordered, and Peter immediately obeyed, hands folded in his lap. Tony straddled his lap, holding him in place.  
" _This- _" he twisted the cap off-"is called 'Reaper Slingblade.' It's _extremely_ hot," he waved the bottle in front of Peter's face and his nose burned from just the smell of it. He started to wriggle nervously, letting out a whimper and making his best puppy eyes up at the man.  
"I'm going to burn the lies out of your mouth Peter," he said with a coldness that Peter felt in his spine.  
"Daddy, please-" Peter begged, voice quiet. Tears glistened in his eyes as he looked at the diabolical looking bottle.  
"Shhhh, Peter. That's enough," Tony said quietly, voice surprisingly calm. "Open up," he urged. Peter clamped his lips together and shook his head, curls flying wildly.  
" _Peter_ , open your mouth," Tony repeated with a growl. Peter turned his head as far as he could away from the man, bringing his fists up in front o__f him in an effort to fend him off. "Please no, Daddy!" He squeaked out, clamping his mouth shut again. Tony gripped Peter's skinny wrists together in his large hand again (Peter made a mental note not to hold his wrists so close together anymore) and yanked his arms up and over the back of the couch behind him. Peter let out a yelp as he felt the ligaments in his elbows stretching and pulling, and Tony forced the mouth of the bottle between Peter's lips as he did. The glass smashed against Peter's teeth painfully and he could feel the heat resonating from the liquid. He screeched out a few more sounds of protest before Tony poured a large splash of the hot sauce into Peter's mouth. It burned on contact and Peter spluttered at the feeling. Tony clamped his hand over Peter's mouth to force him to hold it inside and leaned forward to Peter's ear as he shrieked and jerked.  
"Don't swallow it or I'll beat you until you beg for more hot sauce," he whispered low in Peter's ear. Tears streamed from the boys eyes and he flailed under the larger man, pain mounting with every second.  
"I want you to think about this pain every time you try to tell a lie," Tony continued, sick pleasure etched all over his face. Peter's tongue and lips burned worse than he'd ever felt behind Tony's cruel hand, and his nose ran from the heat. He could feel his skin blistering with each passing second. His eyes rolled back against the pain and he slammed them shut, trying to think about anything else. His mind brought him back to the note in his pocket.  
"I'll be back for you both, be safe"  
He prayed that the man would return soon.

Bruce had gone home that night with sick worry and dread bubbling in his stomach. He couldn't stop hearing Peter's shriek in his mind and he quickly decided he needed to involve police help.  
Luckily, he had a friend he could call on that would be perfect. His friend Steve happened to be a lieutenant on the New York police force and he quickly rang his number. He'd told the man the entire situation, every detail he could remember. Steve had been horrified hearing the details of the man's encounter, barely able to respond over the cell. They made a plan to meet up the next morning to discuss a plan of action but Bruce hadn't been able to sleep, churning over what the boys might be going through and hoping he wouldn't be getting there too late to save them. He hadn't thought to ask the boy's name, so he didn't know who to contact about his safety.  
As soon as his alarm rang seven sharp, he was dressed and out the door, heading to meet Steve at a cafe that was near to Tony's tower. They both arrived promptly and Bruce shook the blonde man's hand absently, eager to sit down and discuss what to do. After they'd both ordered a coffee, they'd found a remote booth toward the back of the shop and Bruce was telling Steve again about what he'd seen.  
"I'm telling you Steve, it was sick. I don't know what happened to the one he calls his boyfriend but he was bleeding everywhere, and then I saw him pick up the little one by his throat and shake him around like he was a doll. We gotta get over there, now," Bruce explained, nearing hysterics. Steve tried to calm him and told him to keep his voice down. Luckily, there weren't many other patrons near where they sat.  
"It's going to take a little time. You're going to have to file a complaint and we'll have to get a crew together to go as backup. It's going to take a few hours but we'll be able to have them out by the end of today," he assured.  
Bruce scrubbed his hands through his hair nervously. He was worried they wouldn't be there in time. The two men promply left and went to the station so Bruce could file the proper paperwork and get their mission started.

James pulled on the knob of his door, trying desperately to knock the lock loose on the other side. His heart pounded and he ignored the throbbing in his head, shouting for Tony to have mercy. He didn't even know if Tony could hear him but he continued his pleas, desperate to come to Peter's aid.

Tony had instructed Peter to stand over the kitchen sink and spit out the spicy liquid finally, and Peter was glad to oblige. He watched it run down the drain and was sure there was blood mixed with it the firey red substance. His mouth hurt worse than it ever had before and he prayed Tony wouldn't make him take more into his mouth. Tony slowly walked to the fridge and poured a glass of milk, moving achingly slowly to give it to Peter. Once he finally did give it to him, Peter eagerly rinsed his mouth out, spitting into the sink again before swallowing some of the cooling liquid painfully.  
"I hope you've learned a lesson," Tony said, watching the boy panting and drooling over the sink. Peter wiped his eyes and nose with his shirt collar and glanced back at the larger man, head bowed in submission.  
"Yes Daddy," he whispered, holding back tears at the pain of speaking.  
Tony watched him for a moment from a few feet away, then called him over to stand in front of of him. Peter nervously stood in front of Tony with his head hung low, waiting for Tony to say or do something. Tony reached up and lifted Peter's chin roughly to turn his face up toward him. Peter thought about the gentle way James had done it the night before and his heart clenched in his chest. Tony examined the boys' cut, swollen and now blistered lips, pulling his mouth open with his fingers.  
Peter whimpered at the feeling of Tony's calloused thumb against the delicate skin in his cheeks, and when Tony pulled his thumb out it was smeared with blood.  
"I want to use you, Peter," Tony said suddenly, breaking the silence. Peter's glassy eyes turned fearfully up at Tony. There was no way he could use his mouth now and his hole was still torn and healing from the day before. Peter started to sweat, heart pumping in his chest. He took a tiny step backwards, away from the man and imperceptably shook his head. "Daddy, please no," he begged in a whisper, voice breaking. He clasped his hands in front of him, prayer style and looked up at him with his big chocolate eyes, unable to hold back tears. It seemed like every part of his body was hurting him amd Tony just wouldn't give him a break.  
Tony took a step forward and Peter dropped to his knees instinctually, covering his head with his arms and letting out a broken sob. His muffled voice called out to Tony.  
"Please Daddy, I can't take it today, I can't-" he looked up at Tony-"you're so big Daddy, you're too big! I can't handle you today, please, please-" he continued begging through his tears.  
Tony hummed thoughtfully and seemed to really consider Peter's words. Finally, he spoke.  
"You're so sweet, tiny little baby boy. You can just use your hands for now then," he said, as though he'd just given Peter a gracious gift. Peter nodded enthusiastically. "Yes Daddy! Thank you Daddy!"  
Tony motioned for Peter to stand and pointed him down the hallway toward his bedroom and Peter quickly obliged the man, practically running ahead to avoid being within his reach. As soon as they reached Tony's door, they could both hear James' frantic yelling and banging and his pitiful sobs next door. Peter felt a twang of sorrow in his chest but was scared to say anything about the man, lest he be punished again for caring too much.  
Tony seemed to take a moment to consider the other man and moved to unlock the door for him. He quietly opened it and James frantically fell out of the doorway onto the floor. He looked up at the tall man from where he lay, face streaked with tears and immediately grabbed onto Tony's leg, wrapping his arms around him and thanking him profusely. One of his stitches had torn and a tiny trickle of blood dripped down the side of his face. Tony reached down to help the man to his feet and quietly scolded him for over-exerting himself, wrapping his arms around his waist.  
"Please Daddy, my head," James cried pitifully. He looked pale again, sheen of sweat covering his body. His lips were dry and pasty and his usually beautiful, bright crystal eyes looked murky and foggy.  
Peter's eyes widened and he barely stopped himself from proclaiming that the man needed some sustenance and hydration, dropping his eyes sadly to the floor instead.  
Tony ushered them both into his bedroom and went to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom to retrieve pain killers. They stood near each other by the door and as soon as Tony disappeared from sight, Peter whispered frantically to James.  
"I have a plan, I need you to trust me and follow my lead!"  
Tony was back a moment later and handed James pills again, this time offering one to Peter as well. They shared the little cup of water and then Tony ushered them onto the bed.  
They climbed on together, being careful not to touch each other and perched, waiting for more direction.  
Tony slowly pulled his shirt over his head, running his hands over his own chest. He looked like he was a million miles away as he slowly dropped his pants from his hips and Peter wondered what he was thinking about. He climbed into the bed between the boys, kissing James a tad too roughly and turning to run his fingers through Peter's hair and give it a tug. He climbed up to the pillows and lay back.  
"I want the two of you to take care of Daddy this time," he stated. Peter thought he sounded almost... Sad. A part of him wanted to feel bad but he knew he had to stay firm in order for his plan to work.  
Peter was the first to reach out and touch Tony's soft cock, gently stroking it to life. He glanced at James from the corner of his eye and motioned for him to join him. James climbed weakly over to Tony and started caressing his chest, kissing him deeply and passionately. Peter worked his wrist in slow circles until the man was hard and then pulled back, sitting on his haunches.  
"Daddy?" He asked sweetly, lisping slightly.  
"Yes, angel baby?" Tony replied distractedly, still kissing James.  
"Can I do something a little... Different?"  
The way Peter said it caught Tony's attention and he turned toward him with a curious expression.  
"What's that, doll face?"  
"Well... Do you like to be tied up Daddy? Bucky and I could tie you up and take care of you," Peter continued, batting his eyelashes prettily. Tony's lips curled up into a smirk and his eyebrows quirked up.  
"Hmm. I haven't done that in a while," Tony replied thoughtfully. He turned to look at James, who was kissing and licking his chest. "I suppose that might be fun," the older man smiled, wiggling his hips at the thought. Peter grinned through the pain in his mouth.  
"I could get some whipped cream and we could make you feel good together," he pressed on, supplying more evidence to his request. Tony broke into a grin and chuckled.  
"Boy, someone really came around huh? Hot sauce is the magic button?" He teased. "Go ahead and go get the whipped cream. I'll have Buck tie me up," he winked dirtily.  
Peter suppressed a shudder and crawled from the bed to head for the kitchen. He prayed that his plan would work and his nerves jingled under his skin. He took an extra minute to grab the whipped cream and looked around the kitchen for anything else he might grab on his way back. He poured another glass of juice for James while he had the chance and decided to grab a small package of strawberries as well. Once he was finished, he reached for his back pocket and felt inside for the little white card, reassuring himself that it was still there and gathering courage. When he felt it, he took a deep breath to steele his nerves and slowly made his way back, hoping James had finished with his task.  
He crossed the threshold into the bedroom again to see that James had found a pair of handcuffs and had secured Tony to the headboard. Peter thanked his lucky stars. That was way better than a rope.  
James was crouched between Tony's legs, lazily and noisily lavishing affection to Tony's cock and Tony moaned above him, eyes closed.  
Peter set the items he'd brought with him on the side of the bed and reached to make sure the handcuffs were tight. Couldn't have the man slipping away.  
He then reached out for James, placing his hand between his shoulder blades and breaking his concentration. The man pulled off Tony's cock with a soft pop and looked at Peter with an almost vacant look. He was looking worse every minute.  
Peter handed him the juice and told him to move over and drink so that he could take over. Tony watched the two intently but silently, not missing anything. Peter popped open the carton of strawberries and tub of whipped cream, scooping a berry through the sticky white dessert and looked back at Tony to make sure he was watching. He reached over and traced the red fruit messily around James' lips and then turned and repeated the motion to Tony.  
Tony pushed the tip of his tongue out to taste the whipped cream and Peter coyly pulled it back and pressed it to James' mouth, making him take a bite. He knew it looked sexy to Tony and it got some food into James at the same time, so it was a double win situation for Peter.  
Tony watched sweet juice from the fruit drip down James' chin with a smile on his face, hands held tightly above his head.  
Peter finally turned his attention back to Tony and straddled his hips, thick cock jutting into the air between them. He leaned up on his knees and reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it slowly over his head seductively, then tossing it to the side. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and made a show of running his hands across his chest and stomach, moaning softly before reaching down to grab himself through his jeans.  
Tony growled and tugged at his restraints gently, lifting his hips into the air and bouncing Peter a little. Peter laughed softly and inched forward on Tony's lap, placing himself closer to his chest, then reached behind him into the back of his jeans and slowly brought his hands back in front of him. Tony's smile dropped when he realized that Peter was wielding a glinting chefs knife in his hand.  
"Peter," he said, trying to sound menacing.  
Peter laughed again and played with the tip of the knife with his finger, twirling it in circles as he smiled sweetly at Tony.  
"Peter, put that knife away," Tony commanded quietly, tugging at his restraints again. He glanced at James but the man looked like he was worlds away, staring at nothing with half-lidded eyes.  
"Bucky," Tony called softly, voice faltering slightly. The man didn't move.  
Peter smirked and reached over to James and touched his shoulder.  
"Hey Jay?" He called, trying to catch the man's attention. James looked up at him with glassy eyes and Peter reached into his back pocket to pull out Banner's card, handing it to him.  
"Get his phone out of the drawer and call this number, ok?" He instructed in a calm, soothing voice.  
James complied, not really thinking about it as he did it. Tony's eyes turned dark and he pulled harder against his handcuffs.  
"PETER," he growled again, tone angry.  
Peter turned to Tony and slapped him as hard as he could. He leaned close to Tony's face and whispered dangerously.  
"You stole my first time." He brought the knife up to Tony's chest and ran the sharp edge across his skin. "You tortured me." He pushed a little harder, making Tony gasp softly and his muscles tensed.  
"You raped me and you treated it like a game." He slashed the tip of the knife under Tony's collar bone, drawing blood. Tony winced out loud.  
"You hurt both of us and took us from our families." Peter reached out and gripped his hand loosely around Tony's throat, pushing slightly with his left hand, while his right still held the knife. He glanced to James. He'd gotten the cell phone from the drawer and turned it on but was staringly blankly at the screen with a confused expression. He looked like he'd forgotten what he was doing as he'd been doing it, and Peter knew he had to get the man help soon. He pushed the knife farther into Tony's skin, sinking in by at least an inch with a sickening crunch as he turned back to face him, and Tony let out a low baritone cry. Peter's face turned vicious. "You made me beg to be raped." His face was pure fury and his whole body shook from the force of the his anger. He let his hand off Tony's throat and slapped his face again. "You hurt me and you made me feel like I deserved it!" He wailed.  
"You fucked me, and I didn't even know my own sexuality yet!" He screamed in Tony's face, tears forming in his eyes. "I'd never even been kissed!” he shrieked.  
James finally realized what was happening and gasped at the sight before him. Tony's chest was leaking blood steadily where Peter pressed the knife into him shallowly and James' eyes opened wide.  
"Daddy!" He exclaimed, sounding terrified. Peter turned to James nervously, hoping he wouldn't try to stop him, eyes turning anxious.  
"Jay, you gotta call that number, quick," Peter repeated apprehensively, eyes betraying his fear completely.  
"Please, Jay." His heart threatened to break free of his chest, it hammered so hard.  
Tony spoke up then, catching the man's attention while he was lucid.  
"Buck, take the knife!" He instructed loudly. "Take it from Peter like a good boy. Protect your daddy!"  
James whipped to Peter and they looked at each other for a moment in silence. "He doesn't really love you James, he stole your whole life," Peter pleaded in a soft voice.  
Finally, James looked down at the phone and in his hand and after a moment he quickly punched in the number, hands shaking.  
"Buck," Tony pressed, eyes fearful as well. "You're making a mistake. Put the phone down and help Daddy out of these handcuffs. I'll give you a treat when we're done," he blatantly bribed the man. "Anything you want, baby,"  
Peter quickly turned his head and looked at James, meeting his cerulean gaze with his frightened walnut orbs.  
"He doesn't even call you by your name, James. He doesn't deserve you. You deserve something real," Peter continued to persuade as James lifted the phone to his ear, voice rising an octave and betraying his desperation.  
"Honey, no one's going to love you like I do out there, no one can please you like me. Put that phone down or you'll regret it, baby, I mean it," Tony threatened, pulling at the handcuffs again.  
A tear slipped from James' eye as he looked from one to the other. Peter could hear the phone ringing and his heartbeat pounded in his ears.  
"Bucky-" Tony tried one last time.

"Hello? Tony?"

James' eyes met Peter's again and he nodded at James to encourage him.  
"Help us," James whispered as another tear rolled down his cheek. "Please."  
Peter could hear Bruce exclaiming to someone on the other end and tried to make out what he was saying.  
"It's them!" Peter heard Bruce shout to someone on his end. The man came back on the receiver.  
"I'm coming to get you! We're on our way! Stay safe! We're almost in the building!"  
James quietly nodded his head and clicked the phone off, head cast down. His face wore shame, like he'd done something wrong.  
Tony began struggling against the handcuffs, shouting loud and angry and bucking his hips up wildly trying to break himself free.  
Peter held on tightly so he wasn't thrown _ _off, and yanked the blade from Tony's chest, loosing a flow of blood down his body. Tony let out an angry roar of pain at the feeling that reverberated in Peter's ears.  
"Peter, if you don't let me go _right now_ -" Tony snarled, panting hard, but Peter cut him off with a wild scream. He gripped the handle of the knife in both hands and brought it high above his head.  
" _PETER!_ " Tony shouted, anger turning to fear. Peter brought the blade down hard, sinking it into soft flesh with a squelch and spraying his face and chest with the red hot fluid. James cried out and tears poured from his eyes as he struggled not to stop Peter. The knife sank deep into Tony's shoulder meat, just above his chest and he made a sound like the air had been punched from his lungs, turning huge wet eyes toward Peter, face incredulous and disbelieving as he tried to choke down blood.  
The look only infuriated Peter more, knowing that he'd looked at Tony with that same look so many times in the past weekend; begging him for mercy. He ripped the knife from Tony's flesh again, almost knocking himself over with the force of the it, and plunged it into the man again, screaming as tears flowed from his eyes. The knife had stuck into his other shoulder and blood was everywhere. Tony made a choking sound and a single tear rolled slowly from his eye as he watched the young man helplessly, hands drenched red.  
"Peter," he choked out softly. "I just wanted you to be mine. My little boy. I just wanted to spoil you and treat you like my prince," he pleaded weakly. Peter panted above him, shaking and trying to reign in his emotions. James had dropped to the floor and was sobbing, fingers gripped in his hair tightly and his body curled around himself.  
Peter slowly crawled from Tony's lap and staggered his way to the bedroom door in a daze. His hands were covered in the sickly red blood and he traced a smear with his fingertips down the hallway as he stumbled toward the living room slowly._ _

__James watched him leave and crawled back onto the bed, climbing onto Tony's chest and covering the hole in his flesh with his ineffectual fingers, trying to slow the blood. The knife still jutted grotesquely from Tony's other side, pouring blood as well. James reached up and caressed his face with his shaking, bloody fingers.  
"I'm so sorry, Daddy," he sobbed. Tony smiled weakly back at him and shook his head slightly.  
"It's my fault, baby. This is my fault. I'm not mad at you," he said quietly.  
James leaned forward and kissed Tony's bloody lips sweetly.  
The next thing he knew, the apartment was loud and buzzing around them and he was being lifted from the man by strong hands and carried swiftly away from the bedroom. Blurs of navy blue and glints of silver rushed around him and his head swam through his sobs. He saw Peter being held tightly by the same doctor that had stitched him up the night before. His face looked crazed and his curls were wild and streaked with blood. They both were carried onto the elevator and then James blacked out._ _

__James woke up late that evening in a quiet, cold white room. His head hurt but felt so much clearer than it had that morning. His body was achey and he tried to stretch but his movement was restricted by cold tubes that jutted from the back of his hands, inside his elbows and jammed into his nostrils. He realized that he was in a hospital bed and alone and the cardiac monitor started beeping faster than it had been previously. James' breathing sped up and he frantically tried to figure out what happened, trying to sit up. A privacy curtain was drawn around his hospital bed and a nurse rushed through at the sound of his speeding monitor. When she'd pulled back the gray sheet, James had caught a glimpse of a sleeping Peter in the bed next to his.  
"Honey, you have to calm down," the nurse stated in a no nonsense way. "You have a concussion and you lost too much blood. You have to let your body relax. You're alright now."  
James took a shakey breath and nodded his head at her, willing his heart to stop racing.  
"Where's Tony?" He whispered.  
"Baby, there's no Tony here. You came in with this sweet lil' boy over there and a science doctor and a whole mess o' good looking police men. You rob a bank or something?" She asked him. James laughed and shook his head no.  
"Can you open the curtain please? I wanna see when Pete wakes up," he requested politely. The nurse smiled and quietly pulled back the partition between the two of them, then crossed over to check James' fluid bags.  
"You're on saline for dehydration and you've already had a blood transfusion. Hopefully you won't need another one before we can release you. How's your pain?" The nurse updated and asked James.  
"It's definitely there," he admitted.  
"Alright, honey, I'll get you some Motrin and then you'll have to wait four more hours for more." James thanked her and she quietly left the room to retrieve the medicine.  
James looked over at the sleeping teen in the next bed and sighed. He was glad the two of them had been able to escape and find help but he was sad that he probably wouldn't ever see Tony again. He knew it was strange to miss the man that had kidnapped, tortured, humiliated and belittled him for so many years of his life but after all that time, he'd really grown an affection for the man. He truly was a sweet, doting and caring person and lover on his good days and James knew it was going to be hard to get over that. But he was so glad that the sweet, delicate looking boy beside him wouldn't have to go through all the things that he'd been through himself.  
His soft chestnut curls were free of blood once more and his handsome, bruised face slept peacefully, no need to worry about what darkness might come his way anymore. James felt at peace at that thought but he still couldn't help but wonder if Tony was alright and what had happened to him.  
Just then he heard the door to their room open and close softly and the same nurse returned with a small cup of pills and another with water. She was followed in by a nervous looking doctor Banner. He craned his neck around the nurse to see James and awkwardly made his way over to James' side. Once the nurse had been sure that James had taken the pain killers, she turned and left the room, leaving the skittish doctor alone with the other two men.  
"Uh, how are you feeling?" Bruce asked quietly, taking in Peter's sleeping form. James smiled a little up at him and said, "fine."  
They looked at each other for a moment before James spoke again.  
"Thank you, doctor," he said graciously, looking the man in the eyes. Bruce coughed quietly and looked down at his feet for a minute before he looked back up and met James' eyes with his own returning smile.  
"Call me Bruce," he said, awkwardly resting his hand on the rail of James' bed. "I just did what I had to. You two weren't safe. I just... I just needed to help," he finished, flushing slightly.  
"Well, we thank you," James repeated earnestly. "We might not have ever made it out if you hadn't helped us." Bruce smiled again, then turned his attention to the younger man's forehead, reaching to lightly touch above his new stitches.  
"Wow, they did a much better job than I did," he mused to himself as he inspected the stitches. James laughed quietly and waited for Bruce to finish. He thought about asking after Tony but decided against it. Bruce's fingers lightly traced from James' temple down to his jaw and he quickly pulled his hand back.  
"I'm just really glad you're ok," he finally said, dropping his hand to pat James' knee. "You still have my card?"  
James looked at the small nightstand that stood between his and Peter's beds and saw that it was mostly empty.  
"Peter might have it," he answered, not sure what had happened when they'd been brought to the hospital. Bruce hummed quietly and nodded his head, pulling his wallet from his pocket. He grabbed another of his business cards from a slot inside and pressed it into James' hand.  
"Call me. Anytime. If you need _anything_ , just wanna talk, what have you. You can always feel free to call me." James thanked him and Bruce quietly left.  
James looked down at the little white card in his hand for a few moments and a wave of fatigue washed over him as the pain medication began to kick in. He glanced back over at the sleeping teen and suddenly the few feet between them made him feel more lonely than ever. He decided to pull himself up to a sitting position and try standing. His legs were shakey but he still was able to move around ok. He slowly pushed the nightstand out of the way and gave the wheeled bed a shove, moving it next to Peter's and dropping the railings on each so that he could push them together. Once he'd done that, he'd climbed back into his own bed and scooted to the edge. He reached out and gently took Peter's hand in his own before letting sleep claim him once again._ _

__When Peter woke up it was dark but a dim blue light washed over the unfamiliar room he lay in. His body was achey and sore and a tube of cold liquid was inserted into his boney wrist and connected to machines above him. James slept close in front of him and his hand was wrapped in the man's larger one. Peter smiled, realizing that they were finally safe and moved his body closer to the crack that separated the two beds from each other. He heard a small gasp from behind him and turned his head in the direction of the sound. His aunt May's worried face greeted him immediately and his face broke into a wide smile at the sight of her.  
"May!" He said as quietly as his enthusiasm allowed him to, pushing himself to a sitting position. She quickly crossed the room from the chair she sat in amd wrapped her arms tightly around the boys shoulders.  
"Oh, Peter!" She sobbed into his hospital gown, shaking slightly. He held her back just as tightly.  
"That officer Rogers and Dr. Banner told me about what you went through this weekend and I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you!" She wept, trying her best to keep her voice down. Peter wondered how much they'd told her really, and how much he would be willing to divulge in the future, and he suppressed a shudder at the memories of his weekend. After a minute, May's sobs subsided and she was able to pull back finally, examining the marks all over Peter's face, bruises having darkened over time.  
"Oh, Peter," she repeated again, face sorrowful. Peter gently took her hand in his and dropped it down to the bed.  
"It's alright Aunt May, I'm safe now," he smiled gingerly. His mouth was still inflamed with pain. May nodded and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him forward to kiss his forehead. She glanced over his shoulder at James. His hand was slowly searching to find Peter's in his sleep and she smiled a little at Peter.  
"He's looking for you," she said quietly, nodding her chin at James. Peter's cheeks flushed pink and he turned to look at the man over his shoulder, reaching his hand backward to take James' again. He turned his head back to May. "He was there with me. He was there for so many years..." His voice trailed off and he cast his eyes down, saddened. May shushed him and ran her fingers through his hair again.  
"Why don't you get back to sleep, it's late honey," she whispered to him.  
"I can stay here if you'd like, or I can come back tomorrow," she added. Peter smiled at her.  
"Why don't you go home and get some sleep? We'll still be here tomorrow," he answered. May nodded and kissed his cheek lightly and gathered up her purse and jacket. When she stood back up to say goodbye, Peter was already curled up to James again. She left quietly for the night._ _

__The boys were in hospital for another week, going through different treatments for their injuries and therapy once a day and May, Bruce and Steve all came to visit them regularly.  
The nurses had scolded James for moving the beds the first two nights and on the third he'd just crawled in with Peter. By the fourth night, the nurses had given up.  
Peter was growing restless and excited to go home by the end of the week but James was becoming more anxious and agitated. Finally, Peter asked him why he was having such a hard time with the idea of going home and was fully saddened but the man's response.  
"I don't have a home anymore, Peter. My home was with Tony. Now, I have nothing to go back to. You get to go back to your life. I get to go back to the streets."  
Peter's heart throbbed with empathy and the man's words brought tears to his eyes. He'd reached out and wrapped his arms around him tightly.  
"I'm sorry Jay. I'll try to help you," Peter promised. James shook his head and put on a fake smile.  
"Don't worry about me, Peter. You've got your whole life ahead of you. I'll figure things out."_ _

__Finally at the end of the week, the boys were both released from their care. They both had to start going to therapy a few times a week, James more often than Peter and for a much longer time. That was the only stipulation of being released. They signed release forms and agreed to see their therapist and Peter was practically humming with excitement by the time they were allowed to leave the building. The clothes they'd come in had been covered in Tony's blood and had been destroyed, so Peter had requested May bring some clothes for both of them. Specifically, he'd asked for sweatpants.  
They walked through the sliding doors into the bright sunlight and Peter had skipped out the door with May, not realizing that James was hanging back, face fearful as he looked around him. It had been a long time since James had been in the outside world without any restrictions or fences or leashes. He felt smaller than he ever had and wondered what he should do first. He could start searching for places to apply for jobs, or maybe look for a place that would shelter him for a while. He walked slowly with his hands shoved into his pockets and his head hung low, eyes wide with anxiety.  
Peter was halfway across the large parking lot when he turned to look at James and realized he wasn't behind him. He stopped in his tracks and saw the man lingering on the sidewalk in front of the building looking lost.  
"Jay!" He shouted, running back for him. "What are you doing?" he panted, "come on!" He took the man's hand and tugged him forward.  
"Peter, I don't have anywhere to go," he stated quietly, head low.  
"What are you talking about?" Peter laughed. "You're coming home with us!" James' head snapped up at the words.  
"Peter, I _can't_ do that. I couldn't impose on your family like that," he said. Peter laughed again, rolling his eyes.  
"C'mon Jay, let's go home." Peter watched the older man's face as he said the last word. James' blue eyes slowly met Peter's warm honey ones in the bright sunlight and reluctantly, he stepped off the curb to follow the teen._ _

__James had offered to find a job to help pay his way and sleep on the floor but May and Peter both shot him down.  
"You need to go to your therapy with my boy first before you try to throw yourself into a job," May insisted.  
"And you're not sleeping on the floor, you can share my bed. Or I'll sleep on the couch," Peter continued. James ducked his head down, face flushing. He wasn't used to having people that felt like a real family. _ _

__Both the boys liked their therapist. She was a young woman that specialized in helping victims of sexual violence and soon they both felt comfortable opening up about their experiences to her. James went more times a week than Peter did, but Peter always accompanied him anyways, waiting out in the warm blue and gold aquatic themed sitting room. The young woman was helping the boys dissect and analyze their feelings for each other.  
They felt a strong love for each other but she helped them realize that they weren't truly in love with each other. There was a potential for it, but what they felt for each other was a need to protect one another because of their shared experience of abuse. She told them that they needed to talk in depth with each other about their feelings and decide together what the appropriate course of action should be.  
James worried that he didn't truly know what love was and Peter assured him that no matter what, he would always be there for him.  
Eventually, James began to feel more comfortable in society and their therapist was able to secure him a part time job helping at an animal shelter. James loved spending his days with the kittens and dogs before going home to Peter and May. Peter finished his year of school online, still seeing his two best friends a few times a week. They liked James too, and the four of them spent a lot of time together. On the weekends, Bruce and Steve liked to check base to make sure they were still doing alright and keeping up with their appointments._ _

__James had stayed with Peter and his aunt for a year and a half and loved his new life with them. They made him feel safe and loved, and Peter loved that James made him feel the same way. They slept close at nights, tangled tight together and breathing each other's air. Aunt May had finally stopped checking on Peter in the middle of the night because she knew that James was there to protect him.  
Neither of them had had any sexual experiences with each other or anyone else since they'd left Tony's home that day. It was harder for James because of what he'd been through at Tony's hands, but Peter just wasn't ready yet. Their therapist was trying to teach James normal reactions to things and that situations and problems weren't always solved with sex. Peter was trying to teach him that he had control over his own body and he didn't need to belong to anyone or give people access to his body if he didn't want to._ _

__James would spend the better part of an hour every night before bed in the bathroom. Peter could guess what he was doing but he never asked or mentioned it.  
Finally, Peter felt like he was ready for a sexual experience and he wasn't surprised to find that he wanted to share it with James.  
One day while May was at work and they were home together, Peter decided to approach James. They were playing a video game in the living room together when Peter turned to James and got lost in his thoughts. He studied the man's face and features, taking in the freckles dusted across his cheek bones amd the dark stubble that surrounded his pink lips and focused on his blue eyes. He realized that he'd always focused on his eyes, ever since the beginning, and he felt his cheeks growing warm. He loved looking at those bright eyes, so opposite his own dark ones. He felt his own pupils growing, endorphins making his head swim.  
James turned to look at Peter and Peter coughed and looked away quickly, hiding the fact that he'd been staring. When he peeked up at James again through his lashes, he saw that James was still looking at him. He blushed again and sucked his bottom lip between his teeth.  
He was almost nineteen now and old enough to give his consent, and it was his own choice, he wasn't being forced. He thought the situation over in his head and decided to just be straight forward to avoid any gray areas for either of them in the future.  
He set his controller down on the floor and looked at James straight on, ignoring his rising heartbeat.  
"Hey Jay?" he began, voice pitching higher before he could stop it.  
"Yeah, Pete?" James responded, sounding a little breathy. Peter could see the man's pupils steadily growing in the cerulean pools of his irises, slowly being swallowed by blackness.  
"Um... C-could I-" he took a breath-"Could I kiss you, Jay?” he forced the question out amd nervously awaited a response. James' lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded fervently, leaning toward Peter slowly, not wanting to be too overwhelming. Peter eagerly leaned forward and caught the older man's lips between his own, slotting them together and drawing James' bottom lip into his mouth, pulling a groan from his throat. James gently reached up and gingerly placed his hand on Peter's jaw just in front of his ear, lacing his fingers through Peter's curls. Peter breathed deep into the kiss and slowly opened his lips, allowing James access into his mouth. James' hips rutted gently into the air a few times and he quickly broke the kiss, pressing his fist into his lap and looking away, face turning red.  
"I'm sorry, that's too fast," he said, panting a little. "I just need a second, I'm sorry," he said, embarrassed but trying to control himself. He'd been working on controlling his sexual urges and trying to unlearn what Tony had taught him, having to be ready at the drop of a pin for the man, but it was harder when he hadn't actually _been_ in a sexual situation in so long.  
Peter smiled softly and waited for the man to be ready to continue. He gently placed his hand on James' thigh, hoping to reassure him but not make him uncomfortable. James slowly turned his head back to Peter and saw that the look on his face wasn't disgusted or angry but simply patient and warm, and he felt confident to turn back into the kiss. He slowly parted his lips and licked at Peter's mouth with the pointed tip of his tongue before pressing their lips together again.  
Peter knelt up and slowly lifted his leg across James' lap, straddling his hips gently. He broke the kiss this time, not pulling away.  
"Is this ok?" He whispered into James' mouth. James nodded excitedly and lightly rested his hands on Peter's hips, hands gently cupping his ass through his jeans. Peter softly ground his hardening cock against James' stomach, tiny moans bubbling from his chest.  
"Just tell me if you want to stop," Peter whispered, hand beginning to roam across the man's chest. James shook his head emphatically.  
"I don't want to stop, Peter," he assured, gripping his smaller hips a little tighter. His big hands started kneading Peter through his jeans, pressing his fingers up and down the seam of his pants. Peter moaned louder and abruptly stood up.  
"I-I'm sor-" James began, but Peter cut him off.  
"C'mon," he said breathlessly, holding his hand out to help James off the floor. James took his hand and allowed him to lead him to their bedroom._ _

__Peter was nervous but excited. He wanted it to make up for his first time, and so he wanted it to be perfect. Passionate and in his own bed, by his own choice. He lay back on the bed and held his hands out in invitation for James to follow. He wanted to share control with his partner this time. _His partner._ He rolled the term around in his head and it made his face break into a wide grin. He welcomed the older man's warm weight on top of him and closed his eyes, basking in the kisses the man lavished against his throat, pulling his knees up to bracket the man's hips.  
"How far do you want to go, Peter?" James asked responsibly and caringly. Peter thought about it for a moment before he answered.  
"I... I think I want to go all the way," he responded in a whisper, blushing darkly. James' head whipped up at the answer, smile crossing his face.  
"You can tell me to stop at any time Petey, I won't go more than you want me to," he assured through his excitement. Peter smiled at the man and genuinely appreciated his care. They slowly kissed and touched each other for a while, working their way up to removing articles of clothing. They both continued to ask if the other was ok with it as it happened, and both appreciated the other for it.  
Finally, they both lay naked under Peter's covers.  
"Are you sure you're ok with this?" James asked from on top of Peter, preparing to enter him. Peter nodded, panting and ready, and grabbed a small bottle of lubricant from his nightstand drawer. He handed it to James, and the older man generously slicked up his own hard length before gently pressing his finger to Peter's entrance.  
"Anytime you want to stop-" James started. Peter cut him off.  
" _James_ ," he said with a little laugh. "I'm ready."  
James nodded and gently pressed his finger inside. Peter gasped at the shock of the feeling. It had been a long time, and Peter would definitely need to be prepped well before they started. James slid his finger in and out gently, watching for signs of discomfort on Peter's face before finally pressing in a second. Peter tensed for a moment and relaxed his muscles, soon giving way to pleasure, and pushing back on James' fingers.  
James' excitement grew and he had to focus on taking his time so he didn't hurt his young lover. He slid in a third finger and worked them inside Peter until he'd sufficiently stretched, and then pulled his fingers out and excitedly lined up his cock head with Peter's hole. Peter took a shakey breath and prepared himself but before James could press in, Peter stopped him.  
"Wait!" He said breathlessly. "Kiss me first, ok?" He requested.  
James was more than willing to comply and kissed him passionately.  
Finally, Peter was ready.  
James pressed into Peter slowly, pushing in fully to the hilt before beginning to move. He waited until Peter had adjusted to the stretch, gently bringing Peter's wrists up and lacing his fingers through his own, pinning their hands by Peter's ears. He leaned forward until his plush red lips brushed against Peter's ear and he whispered, "Thank you, Peter"  
Peter shuddered, being thrown back into the memory of their first time together on Tony's bed. James had done exactly the same thing, only that time, he'd been apologizing. He shook the memory from his head and focused on the man now instead of then.  
His face was beautiful, cheeks and lips flushed red, pupils blown, swallowing the beautiful blue that Peter loved so much. He looked so much happier now, and he looked at Peter in such a way that Peter felt immediately wrapped up in comfort and warmth and acceptance and he was overwhelmed by his own feelings.  
"I love you, James," he whispered before he could stop himself.  
They both froze, wide eyed, and looked at each other for a moment. Peter blushed and turned away.  
"Uh, just-just forget I..." He stammered out.  
"N-no, Peter wait!" James exclaimed, eyes pleading, gently turning his face back to look at him.  
"I... I love you too. I-I do, I... The therapist said that we probably don't really love each other but, Peter... It's been two years and... You're an adult now and... And I love you," he finished breathlessly, hoping he didn't sound like too big of an idiot.  
Peter's shy, worried face slowly turned up into a smile that didn't do his happiness justice, and he reached up and grabbed James' face, pulling him down for a passionate kiss. When he finally broke the kiss, he whispered breathlessly, "Make love to me, Jay, please."  
James was all too happy to oblige. He slowly started working in and out of Peter, brushing against his sweet spot at just the right angle, reducing Peter to a panting, moaning mess within a few minutes. Peter pulled his legs up and wrapped them around James' waist, deepening the angle and drawing loud moans from the older man. They pushed and pulled against each other at a languid pace, rolling hips and roaming tongues and hands everywhere. James reached between them to gently caress Peter's hard cock, drawing a keening whine from high in his chest. Peter arched his back, pressing his chest against James and their sweat slick bodies slid against each other, Peter's cock trapped between them. Between James' long cock slamming into Peter and the friction against his own length, he was coming almost embarrassingly quickly, broken sobs falling from his lips. His fingers dug into James' shoulders, clutching like his life depended on it. Peter's entrance clenched around James as he wailed, and the older man was following shortly after. They lay together for a moment, panting and recovering from the aftershocks of their shared orgasms, come dripping from Peter and sticking between them. Once Peter caught his breath, he smiled and excitedly whispered to James, "let's do it again!"_ _

__They spent the better part of two hours in Peter's bedroom experiencing what good, consensual sex could be like, fast, slow, hard, gentle, standing, on Peter's desk and everything in between until finally, they decided they needed a break.  
They pulled away from each other, panting and sweaty and happy, pulling on whatever clothes they could find before heading to the kitchen for hydration. James couldn't keep his hands off Peter and Peter couldn't stop giggling and blushing. They didn't even notice when May made her way through the front door, too caught up with each other. James had lifted Peter onto the counter and was standing between his legs noisily kissing him and happily running his hands up and down Peter's back and thighs when she came in.  
She did a double take and froze where she stood in the doorway, watching for a moment and listening to Peter's laughter. She smiled, glad that Peter was truly happy, before she spoke up, clearing her throat.  
" _Boys_ , when Auntie May is home, it needs to stay PG rated," she called loud enough for them to hear.  
James jumped backward with his hands in the air like a jewel thief caught with his fingers on the goods, and Peter nearly fell off the counter trying to jump down.  
May laughed and closed the door behind her, setting her purse on a chair.  
"So, you two-this is like, a thing now?" She said, smiling at the two of them.  
Both boys blushed and looked at one another. They were both a mess, hair wild and clothes sloppy. James' shirt was on backwards and Peter laughed out loud, turning back to May.  
"We haven't really talked about it yet, honestly," he replied.  
"Well, make sure it's something that you _both_ want-" she pointedly looked at James-"and make sure if you're not going to be exclusive, that you're being safe."  
Peter groaned, covering his face with his hands. "Oh my god, Aunt Maaay!"_ _

__Later that night after everyone had been in bed for a few hours, May had gotten up to get a glass of water and saw James sitting on the small window seat in the dark. His arms were curled around himself as he gazed out the window. She slowly walked over to him and gently sat down behind him, trying not to startle him. She wrapped her arms around him and he gasped lightly, quickly wiping a stray tear from his face.  
"Oh, May, I'm sorry if I woke you," he said in a small voice. She smoothed her hand over his shaggy hair and gently kissed his temple.  
"You didn't sweetie," she assured. "Is everything ok?" She asked. James leaned his head back on her shoulder and took a deep breath, still looking out the window.  
"I guess I'm a little sad tonight," he whispered.  
"Oh? I thought you and Peter were having a pretty good day, judging by the state of your sex hair when I got home," She laughed. James blushed, invisible in the dark, and ducked his head down with a quiet laugh.  
"Well..." He began, "I guess it's just kind of the low that follows the high, you know?" May waited for him to continue.  
"I guess I was just kind of reminded of... Tony... today." May's face scrunched up in confusion.  
"Was Peter mean to you?" She asked inquisitively.  
"No no, it was nothing like that. It was... Amazing, honestly. I never knew it could be so... _good_. I just... I still miss him sometimes. I never even asked what happened to him. I don't even know if he's alive," he said, tears beginning to fall unbidden. May hummed in understanding.  
"And what if he was? Would you go back to him? Try to be with him again?" She asked sincerely. James thought quietly for a moment.  
"I... Don't think so. I'm happy here. With you, and Peter. But... Maybe I'd visit him. See if he'd changed. See if he misses me too." May nodded. James couldn't see it but he could feel it.  
"You never asked Bruce? Or officer Rogers?" She probed. James shook his head. "I couldn't bring myself to," he admitted. Peter and James had both still been in contact with the two men responsible for helping them to safety. They had regular phone conversations and met up for coffee sometimes when they all had free time. The conversation never typically strayed to their past, though. James didn't think Peter had ever asked either.  
"Hmm," May vocalized. "Would it make you feel better if I told you what happened to him?" She offered.  
"You know?" James asked incredulously. James felt her nod again and steeled himself before he nodded his head in return. "Please," he added quietly.  
"Well, after they took you from his home, they cut him free and took him to the same hospital you two were in. He'd lost a lot of blood." James felt a twang in his chest at the knowledge that they'd been so close and he didn't know.  
"It took a long time to get him into a stable condition again. Peter really did a number with that knife. When he was healthy enough, they moved him to a secure facility upstate. He's been there since. I'm not sure if he's allowed visitors or not but they watch him extremely closely. He's not allowed much time with the other inmates, he's considered too dangerous. I asked Steve to keep me updated so I'd know if they ever let him loose again. I doubt they will though," she finished. James' feelings were struggling through a roller coaster of extreme happiness and sadness and he didn't respond for a while. Finally, May broke the silence.  
"Do you love Peter?"  
James nodded immediately. "Yes, very much," he replied.  
"Is it the same feeling you had for Tony?" She continued. James took a moment before he responded.  
"No, I suppose not. I'm not afraid of Peter, and I don't feel like I'm being used ever," he conceded. May kissed his temple again lightly.  
"You can visit Tony if you want to, and if they let you. I'll go with you, but please don't ask Peter-" James nodded-"and just remember that it's ok to miss him. You spent a lot of time there. It's only normal and natural. But also remember what you have now. How much better it is and how happy you are now. For now, why don't you go in there and go back to sleep. It's late, and my gorgeous nephew is getting cold without you." They both laughed quietly. James turned and wrapped May into a tight hug, breathing out apprehension.  
"Thanks, Aunt May," he said with a voice full of emotion. He felt like he had a little more closure now and they slowly stood up together and went to bed._ _

__A few more years passed and Peter and James had gotten their own apartment together, complete with a kitten and a puppy. James worked full time at the animal shelter now and Peter had graduated from high school and was getting a degree in journalism. James never went to see Tony, though he thought about it from time to time. Bruce and Steve visited regularly, as did Peter's high school friends when they could. They were happy and they had fulfilling lives full of happiness. Peter never let hot sauce in the house and James was ok with it, as long as they got to listen to Ray Lamontagne on a regular basis. It grew on Peter.  
Their wedding song was "You Are the Best Thing"._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? I hope everyone enjoyed it! Everyone, myself included, wanted a happy ending. I struggled with whether or not Tony would die but in the end, I love Tony (even dark Tony) and I couldn't do that to him. It was kinda difficult for me after awhile to continue writing such a dark story amd I'm excited to write something new but to be honest, I could have kept writing this story forever. That's why the end is so long lol, I couldn't decide on a good place to end. But, I hope that I tied up any and all loose ends! And I hope no one's disappointed. Please let me know what you think either way! I've been working really hard on this for a long time, so comments are really _really_ appreciated! Thanks so much for reading until the very end! I've made a mood board for this last chapter that I'll be posting on my Tumblr later as well.  
>  Edit; I'm now realizing that something went wrong with some of my coding and not all of the italics worked so i apologize for anything that might not visually look right, it looked better originally. I'm working on correcting the coding.
> 
> Fun fact; I wanted Peter to call him 'James' because I personally despise the name Bucky, so that was pure self indulgence. I thought 'Jay' was just a cute nickname that Pete would have organically come up with for him.


End file.
